


The Bribe

by Fenchurch



Series: The Bribe [1]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-12
Updated: 2009-05-12
Packaged: 2018-10-15 09:58:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 45,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10554398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fenchurch/pseuds/Fenchurch
Summary: John Sheppard and his amazing gene are bribed to go to Atlantis with the gift of a slave - one formerly known as Rodney McKay - although you probably don't want to know what he gets called now! John has never owned a slave before, although he grew up with slaves in the family homes. He just never gave it much thought before...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is not a cuddly, happy fic, although Rodney is on the way to being saved. The nasty stuff is off-screen - it doesn't need to be explicit. The exploration of consent is there, but John is totally oblivious. He has simply never given slavery any thought - it just was, and now he has one and he just doesn't know what to do with him. This is a world that does give two hoots about the comfort of a slave. I'm hoping to get it finished one day...

WARNING 

**  
This is NOT my usual cuddly fairytale fic! However, Romance is inevitable!**

  
_There are dark themes in this, but the violence and nastiness mainly happens off-stage. John owns Rodney, who disgraced himself five years ago and nearly caused the deaths of members of SG1. Rodney has been a slave belonging to the International Committee that runs the SGC for five years and has never known the security and protection of having an actual owner._

Prologue

 

 

When disgraced pilot, Major John Sheppard sat in the control chair in the ancient base in Antarctica, it made a number of people very happy.

 

It meant that Dr Carson Beckett had a wonderful excuse to escape and avoid ever having to sit in the bloody thing again. He hated Ancient technology that wasn’t for medical use, as it wasn’t always obvious what each item did and anyway, with the mental part of the control, it meant that anything that went wrong would be his fault. He hated it when things went wrong.

 

It meant that Dr Beckett would never have to sit in that damned chair again and therefore would be unlikely to launch any more rogue drones at unsuspecting Generals; a concept that General Jack O’Neill could seriously get behind. If it hadn’t been for the fancy flying of that Major, he would have been an ex-General by now.

 

It meant that Carson would never have to sit in that, zatracený chair again! Dr Radek Zelenka had run out of bribes, arguments and threats to use to get his medical friend to the control room. The last time he had sent the genius slave Ego to fetch him, carrying a message that informed Carson that Ego would be whipped if Carson refused to come. It was underhand and sneaky given that Zelenka knew of Carson’s soft heart and abolitionist tendencies, but Radek had been desperate… until Major Sheppard had taken the seat and made it glow, producing working holograms of solar systems with a mere thought.

 

 

****

 

General O’Neill’s Quarters, Antarctica.

 

“Danny?”

 

General O’Neill checked to see if his bed-mate was still awake.

 

Dr Daniel Jackson O’Neill (Lib) stirred and turned to look at his Patron in the low level lighting of their shared room at the Ancient base.

 

“Yeah?” he responded sleepily.

 

“How can I persuade Sheppard to go to Atlantis?”

 

Jack might have been Daniel’s Master once, and now be able to demand his loyalty as his Patron, but he had waited over a week before daring to discuss this with his freedman. Daniel was still furious that Jack had refused permission for him to go as a part of the Atlantis expedition.

 

“Why wouldn’t he want to?”

 

“Not everyone is as excited by this as you!” Jack laughed. “Anyway, he doesn’t want to be a walking light-switch.”

 

Jack actually understood this. As an ATA gene holder and gold-plated, dimmer enabled, bells and whistles light-switch himself, he could see where the Major was coming from, but he could also see how necessary Sheppard was to the expedition. If he didn’t go, then they were left with Beckett…

 

“He refused?”

 

“Not exactly,” Jack admitted. “He just seemed reluctant. I told him that if he didn’t want to go, then I didn’t want him, but Elizabeth needs him.”

 

“How’s Beckett’s research going?”

 

“I thought you’d know more about that than me. As far as I can guess it’ll take a few more weeks.”

 

Daniel smiled at Jack’s downplaying of his own intelligence. “Imagine if we could all use the technology,” he commented wistfully.

 

“We just need to offer Sheppard something… I don’t know. Money is pointless; he doesn’t spend what he earns as it is. He loves flying, but I can’t guarantee that there will be anything for him to fly out there. Hell! I can’t even guarantee there’ll be anything but gruesome death out there!”

 

They were silent for a moment as they each reflected. Daniel thought back to the only time he had met the Major, and remembered the chair.

 

Actually, Daniel had not been watching the show; exciting though it was. He had been distracted by his friend Rod… Ego.

 

It was criminal that such a thing should have happened to Dr Rodney McKay, astrophysicist, engineer, genius and arrogance personified. Daniel had been born a slave in the senatorial Jackson family, who had sent him to be educated, allowed him to work with the Military on the Stargate program and finally sold him to Jack O’Neill’s personal ownership eight years ago. He had therefore been able to go on missions with his Master and his team, providing invaluable help with his brilliance in the fields of languages, anthropology and archaeology, and eventually being freed. Not that that really made much difference. He now lived with Jack and didn’t actually have to obey him… well, not all the time anyway… not that he’d been that good at it when he was Jack’s slave…

 

Rodney, however, was a genius astrophysicist who had, in spite of Daniel’s lowly status, always treated Daniel with the respect his doctorate deserved. He wasn’t as rude to Daniel (except perhaps with regard to the dubious value of his chosen specialist subjects) as he was with everyone else and had never had Daniel punished for anything. In fact, Rodney had even defended him on several occasions, hating the way that people would happily blame slaves for their own shortcomings.

 

Rodney, however, had made two monumental errors. He had come up with a plan that could, possibly, have accidentally caused the deaths of Teal’c and Jack, although it hadn’t in the end. He had also hit on Major Sam Carter, calling her ‘Blondie’ of all things!

 

Being socially imbecilic and yet having an (admittedly deserved) ego the size of a galaxy, meant that Rodney had not made many friends and there was no one to speak up for him at his trial in front of the International Committee. In fact there were many people, mainly scientists, queuing up to denounce him and speak against him. Dr Kavanaugh had been one of the most vocal, but there were plenty of others too.

 

McKay’s family had not responded to his appeal and only Carson Beckett had spoken for his friend. It was nowhere near enough and Rodney had been sent to Siberia, enslaved by the IC, name changed in a cruel nod to his genius.

 

Actually, Rodney had not let this change in his status get in the way of his work and research on all things Ancient, especially Stargate and wormhole workings and naquadah, but, on his return to the US, Daniel saw a vastly different character to the bombastic, arrogant genius who had been sent away.

 

Now there was only submission and silence where there had been life, brilliance, endless chatter and enthusiasm. Rodney was still the cleverest man in his many fields, (he felt safe saying this, with Sam being a woman!) that Daniel had ever encountered, outstripping Zelenka and pretty much all the other physicists and engineers in their own fields, but now there didn’t seem to be anything other than Physics and Engineering in the man. Daniel would even have welcomed a snarky comment about the pointlessness of so-called sciences such as anthropology from him, but that was over and gone now.

 

It was now Daniel’s turn to defend Rodney and he had done his best to save him from the beatings and abuse that he fell afoul of, due mainly to the way Rodney had treated people in his free days. Daniel had always agreed with Rodney’s estimation of his fellow scientists, although he would never have had the courage to say it so directly! Unfortunately there were a lot of people here who remembered Dr McKay and Daniel knew that he was having a hard time. He never said anything, but he often walked with a limp, or flinched at a touch, or a voice, that told its own story. He no longer bristled at people’s stupidity or flew into a passionate argument that corrected everyone’s errors and left his audience shaking, and Daniel kind of missed that.

 

“Jack?” he cried suddenly, causing his Patron to start out of a doze.

 

“Wha…?”

 

“Why not give Sheppard a slave? A personal one.”

 

“A wha…? Slave?” Jack queried, a bit incoherently.

 

“He’s alone right?” Daniel insisted. “He’s got the gene and he has no family or friends.”

 

“He’s not partnered with anyone, no.” Jack sounded as though he was coming back on-line now. “Why a slave?”

 

“It seems to be something that most soldiers enjoy.”

 

“Well, yeah!” Daniel could hear his Patron’s leer even if he couldn’t see it.

 

“Jack!” he admonished.

 

“Hey!” Jack sniggered. “You started it! I’m not too keen on picking up a slave for an officer… that’s really…”

 

“Well, offer one to Sheppard.”

 

“Why would he want one? If he wanted one, he’d have one already.”

 

“Rodney.”

 

“Who? Daniel… what are you…?”

 

“Rodney McKay. You know… Ego?”

 

“The one who molested Carter?” Jack’s voice rose and he turned over to face his lover.

 

“He didn’t molest her,” Daniel’s tone was angry now, “he asked her out. If I hadn’t been a slave at the time I would have testified for him at his trial. He was…”

 

“Yes…” Jack pulled him close and kissed his freedman to shut him up. As usual, it worked. “I know how you feel about slavery and I agree, but why suggest a slave and why that one?”

 

“Rodney was broken in Russia, Jack. He’s being regularly… abused and beaten. He always used to defend me, but I don’t have the power to help him now.”

 

“Yeah,” Jack agreed, but Daniel carried on anyway. He was Rodney’s champion now and he had an argument armed and ready to use.

 

“I saw him looking at Sheppard in the chair. At first I thought he was looking at the show… as we all were. It was Rodney… Ego who told him to visualise where we were and up popped the Milky Way! But, Jack, he wasn’t watching the revolving planets, he only had eyes for Sheppard. He was instantly attracted!”

 

“Fine, but how do you know that Sheppard would be interested? I mean it’s Sheppard we want to bribe and Ego’s not the easiest man to get on with. We don’t even know if Sheppard’s into guys.”

 

“He doesn’t have to be a sex slave, Jack. Rodney’s…”

 

“Ego,” Jack insisted on the slave’s official name.

 

“Rodney…” Daniel disagreed, “is a fantastic physicist and he would be invaluable to anyone out there in Atlantis. He can help Sheppard to use the technology. With Sheppard’s gene and Rodney’s intelligence, they would be a formidable team. Anything is better than leaving them in the hands of Kavanaugh!” His enthusiasm was causing his voice to get louder, so Jack kissed him again.

 

“Let me think. We’ll need to get Elizabeth’s agreement.”

 

According to John Sheppard’s file and psych reports, Sheppard was, what Jack privately called, a White Knight. He thought nothing of risking his own life to rescue… well, anyone. His famous black mark had come about because he had disobeyed direct orders in order to rescue a friend… a friend who had been DOA in the end.

 

His notes questioned whether or not the man had a death wish, or if, perhaps, he was devoid of brains. Jack knew from talking to the man, and seeing him act under pressure, that intelligence was not one of the Major’s deficiencies, but this didn’t answer the question.

 

Sheppard was undoubtedly a formidable pilot. He had saved the general’s life with consummate skill… Didn’t the man deserve better?

 

“He deserves better than Ego,” Jack decided. “It’s a good idea, Danny, but there are plenty of better rewards around…”

 

“Rodney’s learnt submission the hard way,” Daniel disputed quietly. “He’s broken. He will obey, instinctively, any instruction that Sheppard will give him. He’s a genuine genius. Jack, please think about it? You haven’t seen…”

 

“Hey! Don’t get upset about it,” Jack soothed.

 

“He didn’t deserve to be made a slave,” Daniel pouted.

 

Jack pulled Daniel closer to him and kissed his forehead, thinking hard.

 

“Perhaps it will give Sheppard someone to protect? A good cause?” Jack suggested eventually and felt his freedman’s smile against his shoulder. “Perhaps you qualify as a genius too?”

 

“Yes Master,” Daniel agreed, maybe a little smugly.

***

 

Slave Hall, Antarctica Base

 

“4921!” The computerised voice intoned, and Ego, né Rodney McKay, sighed. He had managed to eat over half of the MRE, before it had been claimed by one of the slaves who regularly tormented him in their enclosed dormitory. He had no way of fighting back and now he wouldn’t even be able to go and beg for a pudding.

 

He hated being a slave. Worse was being a slave who belonged to the State. It meant that there was no one he could appeal to, no one to care if he lived or died… or was raped or beaten for nothing. Even those who belonged to the Militia had a commander they could go to, and a vague chance that someone might decide to help; after all, a dead or wounded slave was of no use to anyone. If he hadn’t had the world of Science to immerse himself in, he would have given up and died years ago.

 

Ego vaguely wondered, as he presented himself at the scanner-gate to be beeped through, who was going to beat him, or rape him now. Perhaps there would be the added bonus of humiliation to go through first? Who knew? Not that it mattered. He rarely looked into people’s faces these days and he had learned that if he just accepted it placidly, then, approximately 61% of the time, by his calculations, they would lose interest and move on.

 

The Marine waiting outside the lock-up wasn’t familiar, but he didn’t have time to look as the leather leash was attached to his standard issue chain collar. He just lowered his eyes and followed the tug where ever it was going to take him.

 

He recited pi to himself. He had calculated a few more places recently, while enduring a beating, and he kept the knowledge to himself, as though it were a bargaining piece… a secret… something that he could possess when he owned nothing. If he could manage disassociation again, it would make the ordeal survivable.

 

Ego was astonished therefore, to find himself in an office. He had expected the barracks, or a private room, but this one was the General’s room. Perhaps it was Daniel who had called for him? Daniel was one of the few people left in the world who knew his real name and treated him as though he were more than a walking computer, or whore and convenient boredom-reliever.

 

He knelt properly and waited.

 

“There you are!” The General announced as the leash was handed to someone and the Marine left the room. “He’s yours.”

 

“Sir?”

 

Ego risked a peep up through his eyelashes and registered that there was an Air Force officer seated opposite Daniel’s General. His heart almost stopped beating when he saw that it was the gorgeous ATA gene pilot with the messy hair.

 

“This is the slave we are offering you.”

 

Major John Sheppard looked down at the slave and could see nothing of the man. He had thinning, light hair that curled in places, but beyond that he could see nothing. All he knew was what the General had told him of the man’s history. His commander had also strongly hinted that John would be doing this slave a favour if he agreed to take him.

 

“And you say he would be my personal property?”

 

Ego hadn’t heard the officer’s voice before, but it was soft and drawling. Was he being… sold? Even in his head, his thoughts hesitated.

 

“That’s right. He belongs to the IC right now, but we have the go ahead to purchase him for you.”

 

There was a small silence, during which Ego’s blood ceased to move around his body and he began to lose feeling in his arms. He was perhaps on the verge of a panic attack because… he could have a Master… a real Master…!

 

“Look up please,” Sheppard commanded softly and Ego looked up into his prospective owner’s face… and almost sobbed. He was amazing. That hair and the eyes… and he was looking… almost kind… sympathetic…

 

Ego mentally kicked himself for daring to believe. It was never going to happen. He castigated himself viciously for allowing something as moronic as hope to spring up and he fought to stop the tears from falling. Pain rarely moved him to tears now, but apparently soft hazel eyes could break him.

 

John Sheppard looked down at the desperate face, with the astonishingly blue eyes that were filling with tears. The poor creature wasn’t the type who would ever be bought for his beauty, but there was something attractive about the mouth that slanted down on the left side, the even shaped face and the strong chin.

 

That face was evidently capable of a full range of expressions, as John deciphered, in quick succession, hope, fear, despair and then, finally, resignation, and he remembered what the General had said about this man. When free, this slave had been brutally honest and brilliant, until the incident that had turned him into this miserable creature, and now he was broken and almost beyond hope.

 

As the slave’s gaze lowered in misery, John made up his mind. He turned to speak to the General, but his words were cut off. The General was already holding out his fountain pen and grinning.

 

“Sign here… and here… and here,” O’Neill took the pen back. “Take these copies to the M.S.R.O. and they’ll retag him. Then you’ve got a week’s leave, as we discussed before. Report back for training by 1200 on the 29th and there’ll be more information for you then. Remember that you will need to tie up all the loose ends.”

 

“Yes Sir,” John grinned and stood.

 

“My freedman has known your new slave for a long time. He’s trouble, but he really is a genius.”

 

“Yes Sir, thank you.” John saluted, the more respectful version, and then, on being given the permission to leave, he reached for the door. His new slave rose to his feet and stood behind him, blue eyes shining in fear and hope. John smiled and then preceded the slave, trying not to tug on the leash.

 

***  
POV skips between John and Rodney.

Major John Sheppard’s quarters, Antarctica Base

 

In John’s allocated room, he dropped the leash and turned around to look at his new possession, only to find that the slave had gone to his knees as soon as the door closed. He was wearing the orange jump suit with sandals and the chain around his neck that was standard issue for all convict slaves who had not been sold into the private sector. It was supposedly so that the slave could not run away, but even if he had had proper boots and full snow gear, there was no way anyone could have run away in Antarctica! 

 

The tag that would normally have dangled from the ugly chain had been cut off just half an hour ago and the slave and his new Master had been warned to stay close to each other until John could get a new tag, or replace the chain with his own collar.

At the Military Slave Registration Office they had re-registered Ego’s number and microchip. They had also registered the fact that 6003985SG-COL4921 was now personally owned. They had handed John a pack, which contained, along with the slave’s file, a load of leaflets designed to help him as a new slave-owner. There was the slave’s medical history including vaccinations, childhood illnesses, official punishments and allergies. There was also a temporary passport addendum, so that the slave could travel with his Master until John got his passport updated.

The slave briefly looked up at his Master, and then placed his head on the floor in the traditional pose.

 

“No… hey! Get up!” The slave raised himself to his knees. John sighed and sat down on his bed. “Look… sit down… over there!”

 

The slave looked up in astonishment, glanced at the indicated chair and then looked directly at the man who apparently owned him.

 

“Master?”

 

John shivered. He had never been addressed as a slave’s Master. He had never really thought about slave ownership. He had been raised in a military family who had never owned the staff who washed, cooked and cleaned for them, and in his adult life, John hadn’t ever had a permanent enough base for home and staff ownership. Even his brief flirtation with marriage hadn’t lasted long enough for _households_.

 

“Sit on the chair, please.”

 

The slave got up and crept over to the chair, sitting on the edge… it wasn’t exactly a hanging offence (there were plenty of those already), but it was regarded as a privilege reserved for free people only.

 

John watched helplessly, as the slave began to breathe with difficulty, slowly turning a deep and interesting pink as the panic attack took hold.

 

“Oh crap!” John slipped to the slave’s side as he tipped himself off the chair, shaking. “Look, I’m sorry…” He rubbed the slave’s back in what he hoped was a comforting manner. “I’ve never been a Master before. I mean… crap!”

 

“I’m sorry, Master…” the terrified man managed eventually. “I… I’m sorry.”

 

“Hey… it’s OK. Really, calm down.” The slave’s colour returned gradually to pale pink and John sat back, leaning against his bed, hand still on his new possession’s shoulder.

 

Ego was embarrassed and miserable now. He had just proved that he was a nightmare to keep and fully expected to be taken back. He shuffled back to his more standard kneeling position and waited, resigned. One blissful hour of hope, dashed because he was such a mess.

 

“Tell me your name.”

 

“Ego, Master,” he whispered his hated slave name.

 

“No, I mean your real name; the one your mother called you.”

 

Ego snorted and answered truthfully before he had even thought about it, the pain always there. “She called me ‘You’ or ‘Boy’.”

 

John’s heart flipped and he squeezed the slave’s shoulder in surprise at fleeting glimpse he had just caught of this man’s past.

 

“Look up at me, please. I mean… I mean the name that you call yourself… when you are alone… in your thoughts.”

 

The eyes filled, yet again, with tears that were hastily controlled and then the answer was pushed out, as though it took effort.

 

“R…Rodney, Master.”

 

“Hm… it’s a good name for you… I think I shall name you Rodney.” John placed a finger under Rodney’s chin, trying to stop him from lowering his gaze again. “I’m Major John Sheppard, USAF and you have been bought from the IC as a kind of bribe to make me go to Atlantis. I’d have agreed to go anyway… my career is down the toilet and I have no ties here, so what the hell? Look, I’ve never owned a slave before and I’m not big on reading leaflets,” he pushed the bundle of glossy paper into the waste bin, “so, let’s just see what happens, OK?”

 

“You… you’re not going to send me back, Master?”

 

“Nope!” He smirked and then he put his earnest face back on, “unless you want to go back?”

 

“No!” Rodney replied quickly. “No… please?”

 

“Well, you’d better go and get your stuff. I’m moving out in the morning. I’ve got to go and let my apartment in California and… well, they gave me a week.” John realised that the slave was looking up at him questioningly. “Yeah?”

 

“Stuff, Master?”

 

“Yeah, personal stuff, I dunno, pictures, clothes, crap like that.”

 

“I’m a slave. We don’t have stuff,” Rodney pointed out dryly, in his best ‘you’re an idiot’ voice, and then realised that he had just done it again. One day he would learn to keep his mouth shut. 

 

“I noticed,” John drawled with a big grin. He patted the shoulder that he hadn’t quite let go of yet and then saw Rodney’s astonishment. “What?”

 

“You’re… you’re not going to punish me?”

“What for?” John asked, startled.

 

“I…. Lack of respect?” Rodney suggested quietly.

 

“Is that a kink of yours then? Do you wanna be punished?”

 

“No! I… I just…” Rodney ran out of words.

 

“You must have something to collect. Family photos? Letters?”

 

“Nothing, Master.” 

“Clothes?” Rodney shook his head. He wore uniforms, provided by the base and made in luminous orange, ‘one size fits none’ cotton.

“Toiletries?”

 

“It’s all provided, Master. Shampoo, soap, chewy tooth-cleaner things, they are all in dispensers.”

 

“Personal stuff? Photos? Anything?”

 

Rodney had kept a photo of his cat for nearly the whole time in Russia, but it had been taken from him eventually; ripped to shreds in front of his eyes while the soldiers laughed. 

 

John saw the emotion rise up again and he patted his slave’s shoulder as it seemed to help.

 

“Rodney, I took you, because you looked like you needed rescuing. You’re… you’re safe now.”

 

Rodney really wanted to believe that. He really wanted to feel that he had at last fallen on his feet, that his new Master would respect him and allow him to have… something… anything. He knew that his Master would want sex soon and that would hurt, but it would just be his Master claiming what was his, rather than the habitual abuse for the amusement of a bunch of bored soldiers. He had already been given his name back, and that was worth any pain, but ‘safe’ was more than he could ever expect. He had felt safe when he was free and a respected physicist, but that was a huge joke! He would never feel safe ever again.

 

John watched all the emotions flit across his slave’s face. John was good at empathy and, when he paid attention, he read facial expressions easily too. Rodney was easy to read and John knew that there would be much to talk about when they were more comfortable with each other. Rodney was his responsibility now and John had a new mission in life. He vowed that he would do all he could to make Rodney feel safe.

 

His first move was to undo the leash. He dropped it on the bed as he stood and then announced that they were going to the Commissary.

“And Rodney, that whole kneeling thing? In private… knock it off, OK?”

 

“Yes Master,” Rodney agreed, although he wasn’t sure how he would manage it.


	2. Chapter 2

Antarctica Base, Commissary

 

Rodney knelt at John’s feet in the Commissary. It was the first time he had ever been here, as only personal slaves were allowed in, either with their owners, or else to fetch things for them. He had followed the Major, unleashed, feeling bizarrely free… in fact he almost felt lost without the tether that he was used to, and he’d watched carefully as his Master loaded the tray that he was carrying. Given that his Master was so thin, he was astonished at how much food the man seemed to require, but he did his best to keep his face neutral and balanced the items carefully.

 

 

There were other slaves around the room and Rodney copied them, trying to choose a place that would not impede anyone’s passage.

 

 

John hadn’t been on this base long enough to get to know anyone, so he chose a table on its own in the corner of the large room, away from the noisy groups of units, who probably knew each other too well. It was quiet and that suited John, as he divided up the food and handed a plate to Rodney.

 

 

John was rather surprised when he found himself still holding the plate moments later. He looked down and tried not to feel self-conscious about having a human showing him such obvious deference. He was used to giving orders as an officer, and he was good at being obeyed, but none of his subordinates had ever cowered before him.

 

 

“It’s for you,” he explained patiently.

 

 

“Master?”

 

 

“You’re mine now. I say what you can and can’t eat and it is up to me to get it for you. I’m sorry if there’s anything you don’t like, but I made sure there’s no citrus. It would look a bit… you know…odd though if I held up the line to ask you.”

 

 

“Yes, Master,” Rodney agreed automatically and he took the plate.

 

 

There was so much in this action to overwhelm Rodney. The plate, the lack of citrus, the metal fork, and… food. He had been living on a diet of MREs since being enslaved. The plastic, self-heating, crap that pretended to be food, had been handed out on a production line basis and it had always been pot luck whether or not he got something that would actually kill him. Initially he had been happy to eat the stuff – he had, on occasion, actually chosen to eat MREs when he had been free, but the generic taste and lack of variety, quite apart from the daily fight to keep the little he had, had soon worn him down until he ceased caring. Now, suddenly, he was being confronted with actual vegetables, meat that might once have been a part of a living animal and… and… heat. Real heat… warm food, not hot on the top and solid on the bottom.

 

 

Then there was the sheer quantity. There was no way that Rodney could eat all of this; his stomach had shrunk with lack of use and he was full after a few mouthfuls of each item, but he savoured every last bite.

 

 

He was doing well, until finally his Master handed him a chocolate muffin. That was the breaking point.

 

 

John heard the sob and looked down in surprise.

 

 

“Hey!” Putting a hand on Rodney’s shoulder had helped earlier, so he repeated the gesture. “What’s wrong?”

 

 

There were tears dripping down the slave’s face and Rodney kept wiping them away, only for more to fall to replace them.

 

 

“Rodney?”

 

 

“Ch…chocolate,” he managed to sob.

 

 

“You don’t like it?” To John’s amusement, Rodney hugged the muffin as though it were a treasure to be prized. The slave’s devastated expression reminded the Major of a child who had been told to put a toy down. He grinned again. “It’s OK, I’m not going to take it back. I like chocolate, but… you know… I can go without.”

 

 

This led to a train of thought, about slaves and their problems, that made John lounge back in his chair and gaze into the distance, which allowed Rodney to calm down enough to be able to eat his prize.

 

 

Rodney managed to consume about half of the cake, which left him looking around to think of a way of hiding the rest. Looking up, however, he found that his Master was watching him, so, face falling, he sadly placed the remains on the abandoned plate.

 

 

John turned and leaned forward so that he was able to speak quietly.

 

 

“Give it to me,” he ordered and he rolled it up in a paper napkin to take away. “I can get away with it!” he confided with a grin. “But don’t worry, it’s yours. Now, we’re going to go back to my room, where you are going to explain about the food thing. There are a lot of things I don’t understand and I won’t understand unless you explain them to me. I know you’re smart, so work it out. I’m not going to go around punishing you for giving me information, especially if I ask for it in the first place. Now, take the tray back, then take two bottles of water from the tray over there. Then come back and we’ll head back to my room.”

 

 

***

 

Antarctica Base, Major John Sheppard’s Quarters

 

 

Back in the Major’s room, Rodney found himself helping his Master to pack. There wasn’t much, but it all had to be folded neatly and stowed away carefully in a kit bag. It was obvious that there was little that was personal here and Rodney wondered if that was significant, or whether it was just that his Master hadn’t expected to be here for long.

 

 

There was an awkward moment when his Master sat back on his bed, with a bottle of water, and Rodney remembered that he had been commanded not to kneel. So he stood, feeling awkward, wondering if there were some way, or somewhere he should be standing. He was used to either kneeling or standing… unless he was crawling around Ancient machines, fixing things that no one else could and reaching things that were potentially dangerous.

 

 

Suddenly his Master threw him one of his pillows, nearly knocking him over and then grinning at him. Rodney liked that grin. He liked it a lot. He almost responded to it with a grin of his own, but then that irritating little voice in his head reminded him that it was all too good to be true and he lowered his head.

 

 

“Sit on that if you can’t sit on a chair.”

 

 

“Yes, Master,” Rodney obeyed and drew his knees up to his chin, trying to make himself as small as possible.

 

 

“Now, tell me about the whole food thing.”

 

 

“Food thing, Master?”

 

 

“Yeah. You were very emotional.”

 

 

Rodney swallowed. He had no pride left, but he still felt embarrassed by feelings. He simply wasn’t used to expressing himself at all anymore.

 

 

“Slaves are…. Um… we only get MREs, Master.”

 

 

“Jeez! They’re OK in emergencies, but… crap!”

 

 

“Yes Master.”

 

 

“I forgot. Here’s your muffin.” The Major handed him the napkin and to Rodney’s surprise, the muffin had become whole again.

 

 

John laughed at the astonishment on his slave’s face. “Yeah! Magic! Go on.”

 

 

Rodney smiled, unable to stop himself, but then he remembered that he had been given an order.

 

 

“I’m not used to… to real food.”

 

 

“That’s it?”

 

 

“Yes, Master.”

 

 

John contemplated for a moment and then he laid down on his side and propped his head up.

 

 

“Look, Rodney, I don’t want to make your life hard. I don’t want to upset you. I’m used to having my orders obeyed as an officer, but I don’t want to mistreat you.”

 

 

Rodney tried not to show anything on his face at this pronouncement, but his thought was clear – there would be nothing that he would be unable to endure, as long as John Sheppard owned him. He knew that it was probably a manifestation of something like Stockholm Syndrome that made his new Master into a godlike creature, but it wouldn’t be long before Rodney was in love with the man who owned him now.

 

 

“As long as I am getting real food, you will too. In Atlantis I’m sure there will be rules and regs like everywhere, but I intend to do all I can to make your life better, but I can only do that with your help. You have to tell me if I can help you. Do you understand?”

 

 

To John’s surprise, his slave looked affronted. His chin stuck out and there was a blaze in his eyes.

 

 

“I am a genius you know!”

 

 

For a fleeting moment, John was too surprised to know how to react, and then he began to laugh.

 

 

“Oh Rodney!” His laughter ceased though when Rodney curled back up into a frightened ball, like a terrified hedgehog. John controlled himself, reached out and spoke gently, pulling his slave up from his prostrate position without leaving the bed.

 

 

“Look, you have to be careful. Out there you could be brought to me and I’d have to authorise punishment if you said anything like that, but with me, you can say practically anything you like! I’m not going to punish you for reaction, thoughts, indignation… retorts… Just be yourself. I really want to help you. And you can ask me questions too. If they are too personal, I won’t answer, but you won’t be punished for asking. I’m laid back.”

 

 

John laid back on the bed as though in demonstration.

 

 

“Tomorrow we will transfer by Militia-Airways-Incorporated back to McMurdo. Then we fly to Colorado, and from there we fly by Real-Airways-With-Movies back to California. I’d rather not have to use this,” he picked up the leash. “Can I trust you to stick to me… you know, one step to my left and all that?”

 

 

“Yes, Master.”

 

 

There was a knock at the door. Rodney leaped up and looked at his Master.

 

 

“Go ahead!”

***

Antarctica Base, Major Sheppard’s Quarters

 

There was a knock at the door. Rodney leaped up and looked at his Master.

 

 

“Go ahead!”

 

 

Rodney discovered Carson Beckett outside.

 

“Hi!” the doctor smiled. “You OK?” he asked softly and Rodney nodded. Carson then looked past him. John had come to the door now and Rodney sank to his knees.

 

“Hello! I’m Dr Beckett. I’ve known Rodney for years and… I just wanted to see if he was OK.”

 

“Come in,” John allowed. “Rodney, get up please. You don’t mind if he just sits do you?” he asked Beckett closing the door behind his guest.

 

“Of course not,” Beckett took the chair at the desk and did a cursory, visual check of Rodney. “Rodney and I arrived at Area 51 together. We go back a long way.”

 

“Are you going to Atlantis?”

 

"Oh aye!” the Scot grinned. “I’m CMO.”

 

“Oh! That kind of doctor!”

 

There was a murmur that sounded like ‘voodoo’ and John looked at Rodney, who tried, unsuccessfully, to look innocent. John smirked.

 

“Dr Beckett, would you call yourself a friend of my new slave?”

 

“I would indeed, and I just came by to warn you that I have a large number of very large needles and I know how to use them.”

 

John chuckled again. “I’m glad, Doctor. Would you mind if asked a favour of you?”

 

“Go ahead.”

 

“I could be wrong, but I think that Rodney needs all the friends he can get. Would you allow him to treat you as an equal in private?”

 

“Ye mean I can cha’ ta him an’ all that?” Carson’s accent became rather more pronounced in surprise and Rodney actually knelt up.

 

“Yes. I was married once and my wife’s brother had a slave who called me John and forgot all the rules when we were alone in the house. I think I got on better with him than I did with… well, with even my wife!” John grinned winningly. Nancy would have called it ‘The Deal Clincher Grin’. “So, when it’s just us, or just you two, forget all that crap, OK?”

 

The doctor’s cheeks dimpled as he replied, “Aye, we will. We have been already since Rodney got back. Thank you for calling him Rodney.”

 

“I… I’m going to get a beer. Can I interest you Dr Beckett?”

 

“Carson. Aye, a beer sounds good.”

 

“Rodney?”

 

“Seriously, Master?” Rodney asked, flabbergasted.

 

“I’ll take that as a yes.” John drawled and then he left them.

 

***

 

“How are you, lad?” Carson asked as soon as the door closed. He was used to Rodney avoiding furniture by now, but he was pleased to see the cushion.

 

“Carson…” Rodney couldn’t look up yet. “I… I think… I think it’s the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

 

Beckett released a breath he hadn’t been aware he was holding.

 

“I’ve asked around, but so far no one really seems to know anything about him.”

 

“He gave me real food, Carson… not an MRE in sight.”

 

“Daniel has been trying to gather information too. Ye know it was he who got you this?”

 

“I guessed. Carson, what if it all goes wrong? What if he… gives me back? I don’t think I could…”

 

Carson slid off the chair and knelt next to his friend. He had found himself touching Rodney a lot since he came back from Russia, feeling the bones through the skinny body and surreptitiously checking for injuries. Dr Rodney McKay had been one of the most irritating men he had ever befriended, and yet they really were friends. There was no way that Rodney had ever deserved this, and Carson had done his best at the trial, but it hadn’t been enough.

 

Now, he placed his hand on Rodney’s shoulder and saw the tears begin to form. He then pulled Rodney to him and allowed Rodney to shake and cry into his own shoulder, whispering meaningless words of comfort.

 

 

That was how John found them when he got back, clutching the bottles of semi-illicit alcohol.

 

Strangely enough, John felt a flash of anger to see the doctor with his arm around his slave, but he pushed the feeling down quickly, forced what Nancy used to call ‘Charming Grin No 5- the fake one’ onto his face and handed out the beer.

 

***

 

The addition of Carson to this first evening was a bonus. Carson gave John a run- down of all the things that Rodney was allergic to, and he helped him to understand exactly what it was that had caused Rodney’s enslavement in the first place.

 

“It all boils down to… well, Rodney’s idea didn’t work and it could’ve caused the death of one of Colonel Carter’s team – an alien called Teal’C.”

 

“Sam saved him in the end,” Rodney added morosely, fiddling with the label on his beer bottle. “Her plan worked.”

 

“That’s not enough for slavery!” John protested.

 

“Aye, well, there was also the harassment charge. If it hadn’t been Samantha Carter bringing the case, I doubt there’d have been any punishment at all.”

 

“General O’Neill told me I was going to be shipped to Russia… he didn’t tell me that it would be as a slave,” Rodney sighed. “’Callous disregard for life’… that’s what he called it.”

 

“So, you’re saying that because this Carter didn’t like Rodney, she pushed for enslavement and got it?” 

 

John had never heard of Sam Carter, but he wasn’t sure that he would be able to control himself if he ever met her.

 

“She’s beautiful and brainy, and I was a fool to ever speak to her, Master,” Rodney told him with his eyes down, after hearing his friend and his Master’s opinions of her.

 

“She condemned you to slavery, Rodney!” Carson cried.

 

“Look at me, Carson, why would anyone admit to having me as a suitor?”

 

John saw Carson’s brow furrow and he knew that there was something wrong.

 

“This isnae like you Rodney.” The doctor turned and explained to John. “He’s always been so confident, arrogant even, downright big headed. I don’t like seeing him so…so…”

 

“Submissive?” John suggested.

 

“Aye.” Carson sighed and then slapped his hands down on his knees as a precursor to standing up. “Look, I have to go. I have to be up for the early shift. I’m sorry, Rodney, I didn’t mean to stir things up.”

 

“Thank you for coming to see me,” Rodney murmured.

 

“We are leaving tomorrow.” John stood with the two friends. “I have a week’s leave before pre-mission training.”

 

“Will you permit communication?” Carson asked rather formally.

 

“Of course. If you write your number down here, we’ll call when we get to my apartment.”

 

“One more thing, Major.”

 

John nodded warily.

 

“I would like to examine Rodney properly. He has not been allowed proper medical attention since being enslaved and I have tried again and again to get permission to give him a full medical.”

 

“My plane leaves at 1500. He’s yours as long as you want him before that.”

 

John was rewarded with a big, dimply, beamy smile from the doctor and a slightly less enthusiastic expression from his slave.

 

“Thank you, Major!”

 

 

John was again magnanimous in allowing the two friends time together, but it didn’t take long before Carson was pulling the door shut behind him and joining John in the corridor.

 

“Major, Rodney has been through a lot. He’s a difficult man, but he is incredibly loyal and a hopeless liar. He’s also a genuine genius, when he’s not being a daft git. If you allow him to be himself and act as he thinks best… well, it takes some getting used to, but he will always be loyal to you. If it’s about machinery or anything practical, then he is likely to be right.” Carson sighed. “I’m not trained like you and I am not violent, but if you harm him any more than he has already endured, I will come after you and naught will stop me.”

 

John didn’t smile at the threat from the sweet little doctor. “He has you, Doctor. He’s my slave and he will obey me, or else he will be in more trouble, and not just from me, but I will do my best to make his life bearable. Doctor Beckett…”

 

“Major?”

 

“Thanks.”

 

Beckett smiled, nodded and set off down the corridor, sure that he had done all he could.

 

***


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Off to Los Angeles via the Airport...

Antarctica Base, Major Sheppard’s Quarters

 

 

Back inside the small room, Rodney had pulled down the covers of the bed, trying to do something useful. He turned and knelt as soon as his Master re-entered.

 

 

“Something wrong?” John asked, surprised, seeing immediately that his slave was upset again.

 

 

“No, Master. Thank you.”

 

 

“What for?”

 

 

“For… for allowing me…” John understood and he pulled Rodney to his feet.

 

 

“Bedtime. Are you going back to the dormitory?”

 

 

Rodney’s face momentarily showed alarm, but he schooled his features and lowered his eyes, even though he was trembling, and answered properly, “As you wish, Master.”

 

 

If he hadn’t heard the desperation and seen the shivering, John might have laughed at the terrible attempt on his slave’s part to hide his feelings. Instead, John had to answer, “I don’t really have anything for you to sleep on here.”

 

 

The hope in the slave’s eyes was almost blinding.

 

 

“The… the floor, Master?”

 

 

“The floor is preferable to your bed in the dormitory?”

 

 

“Infinitely, Master. D…don’t you wish to… u… use me?”

 

 

It took a moment for John to realise what Rodney meant, but then his denial was instant. “No! Well, not tonight! I’m… no. Besides, I don’t think there’s room on that bunk. Here.” He took his mind off the awkward moment by pulling the top blanket from his narrow cot. “I’ll think about more permanent stuff later, but this is all I have for now.”

 

 

“Thank you, Master.” Rodney didn’t think about the prescription mattress that he had slept on, until the cell and the trial. Now he was used to sleeping whenever and wherever he possibly could, hoping against hope that he might be able to sleep without fear for once. The carpeted floor in this private room with the man who owned him was pure luxury and the blanket unheard of.

 

 

“Bathroom?” the Major offered. Rodney went into the tiny cubicle and looked at the shower with longing. A shower… possibly even with hot water… without the eyes and the touching and the taunting… He controlled himself and contented himself with splashing water on his face, using the toilet and avoiding his reflection in the mirror.

 

 

His Master had a shower and Rodney wondered whether he should be ready with a towel to dry him and clothes… but he had been given no instructions so far, so he just waited.

 

 

In the end all he was required to do was turn the light off. The Major mumbled something about finding a toothbrush and then tucked himself in and started to settle.

 

 

Rodney curled up in his blanket and laid his head on the pillow, revelling in the comfort, and soon he was asleep with a smile on his face for the first time in four years.

 

 

***

 

 

The next morning, Rodney woke early as usual and was astounded to find that his Master was already awake and showering. Most of the soldiers and scientists he had ended up ‘sharing quarters’ with, had only ever kept him around long enough for round two and then thrown him out into the care of a guard, so they could lie in.

 

The Major emerged from the bathroom cubicle dressed in sweats and a t-shirt, and he pulled a pair of running shoes from under his cot.

 

“I have to run in the mornings, or else I feel crappy. You coming?”

 

“You wish me to… to run with you, Master?”

 

To Rodney’s astonishment, the Major broke out in a weird, braying laugh.

 

“You should see your face! I’m guessing that’s a ‘no’ then! OK! Get breakfast and then shoot along to see Carson. I’ll be about an hour.”

 

The Major then slipped out of the door and Rodney could hear the sound of training shoes hitting the synthetic surface of the base, taking his Master away.

 

 

He was at a loss. Rodney knew that if he were caught wandering around the base without a marker on his collar or a freeman holding his leash, that he would be taken straight to the Slave Hall and punished. However, his Master had commanded him to fetch breakfast and see Carson… and if he failed, he would be punished.

 

Rodney hadn’t been punished for a while and his back was free from red cane marks, because since being sent to Antarctica, he’d been able to keep his head down and his mouth shut. Besides, he had been picked up by Dr Zelenka, who treated him as though he had a brain, and who had even asked him to check his equations and run his simulations on occasion!

 

Now, this was all to end and the slave had a decision to make. Should he disobey his new Master, or should he risk punishment and obey? It was a no-brainer really. Disobeying his Master meant that the Major would punish him personally and Rodney would find out a bit more about the man he belonged to, while being caught alone around the base would leave him exposed and still unable to obey his Master. He would have to brave his Master’s wrath rather than brave the impersonal and brutal caning from overenthusiastic guards in the Slave Hall.

 

In the meantime, he could at least pack his Master’s bag in readiness for the journey.

 

 

***

 

 

John came back from his run humming tunelessly. He loved the buzz that running gave him and it set him up in a good mood for the rest of the day, leaving him ready and able to cope with the pettiness and over-regulation of military life. God, he hated being among the Marines and their tight-ass, strict adherence to the rule-book! At least Airmen were less rigid and you could even have fun with some of the guys lower down the food-chain! He would be meeting Colonel Sumner later and he knew that this meeting would be like every other meeting he’d ever had with his new CO. The CO would take one look at his non-reg hair and dislike him on sight.

 

John was still pondering whether he was brave enough to have his hair cut for the occasion, when he opened his door to find a mass of babbling slave prostrate at his feet.

 

“Hey! Hey!” John crouched down and pulled the man up by his shoulders, forcing him to kneel up enough so John could close the door.

 

Rodney was red in the face and breathing with difficulty, while tears ran down his face and his hands folded over themselves in agitation. John stroked his shoulders for a while, trying to calm the slave down and then he stroked Rodney’s cheek.

 

Rodney’s reaction was instant. He immediately rubbed his cheek in his Master’s hand and leaned into the touch, which made John smile.

 

“Now… breathe, Rodney, breathe with me… that’s it. What happened? What’s wrong?”

 

“I’m sorry, Master.”

 

“Yeah, got that bit. Why? What’s happened?”

 

“I couldn’t obey! I couldn’t obey you! Not allowed… no breakfast, I…”

 

“Hey! Calm down. You couldn’t get breakfast? Why not?”

 

“Not allowed… no tag… punishment…”

 

John thought about this for a moment, then realized, “You can’t move about on your own, because you have no tag on your collar, so you need to be leashed to move around. Crap! I’m sorry… I just hadn’t thought about your restrictions. It’s OK, get the leash and we’ll go now. I don’t know about you, but I could do with a coffee right now!”

 

Rodney could hardly breathe for shock. There was too much to take in. His Master was not angry and wasn’t punishing him, but instead was taking him to breakfast and… and… coffee!

 

Rodney had long since given up believing in God. Not only was it scientifically unlikely, but what kind of God would create a world like this? Now? Now, he prayed fervently to the God he didn’t believe in to give him the sense and the strength to not muck this all up. He would behave and keep his mouth shut, he would obey his Master at all times and he would offer himself up, with no complaint for his Master’s use, but please, please, please let him not be sent away.

***

 

Colorado

 

There were a few clerical problems when they arrived in Colorado. Even with the Military attendants, they still had to prove that Rodney was now privately owned and John had to show his passport addendum four times before General Landry appeared to confirm the whole thing.

 

At Denver International Airport, John actually dared to look around at the shops. In general, he hated shops, often buying on line, or going to the few boutiques he trusted, but at least here the choice was limited and there were few people around to get in his way.

 

Rodney had never been in this situation before and he had no idea how to behave. His whole experience as a slave had been passed in one Military institution or another, where there were strict protocols in place and clear guidelines. In the outside world, owners often took their slaves out of the home or office, many slaves worked independently as though they were free citizens, with only the chain or collar around their necks to mark their status, and he knew that there were normal behaviors that people expected, but he had never expected to be here himself.

 

Already in the airplane that had brought them from McMurdo, he had been astonished to find that he was allowed to sit, unbound, next to his Master. When they were first led into the plane, Rodney had automatically knelt by his Master’s feet, waiting to be strapped in, but John had quickly pulled him up to sit in the seat next to him. Apparently he had paid for a seat for his slave. Rodney had even been given a blanket and a little pillow. In the whole, long journey, he had only woken once, when his master began to jerk around in unsettled sleep. Rodney, very daringly, stroked the Major’s arm, murmured to him in soft and meaningless whispers, and then pulled him over so that he was resting his head on his slave’s shoulder.

 

Travelling to and from Russia, Rodney had been treated like a dangerous criminal, leg irons and handcuffs ensuring his compliance. He had never bothered to pick the locks, or attempt to escape, as the ‘loc chip’ would have made him far too easy to track, and anyway, what kind of escape was there from an airplane? Throughout the journey, however, there had been a little voice in his head that had insisted that it was his choice to stay.

 

Now, in the civilian airport, he was wishing that his Master had brought the leash with him. Being on his own, in an environment where he had once been a real person, made him feel almost naked and definitely vulnerable. If he were to be found on his own, away from his Master and without a tag on his chain, even with the hand luggage he was carrying, he could be taken and imprisoned, beaten, even raped without being able to do anything about it. It had happened before, and he wasn’t keen to repeat any of those experiences.

 

“You OK?” John asked as he realized that Rodney was being over-zealous about the ‘one step behind and to the left’ thing. He turned and saw the tinge of green on his slave’s cheeks and lips, as well as the down-turned eyes.

 

“Yes, Master,” he replied very softly.

 

“Look up,” John insisted. It was the kind of tone that would never have commanded respect from his soldiers, but it worked with this terrified slave. “You’re trembling. Are you nervous?”

 

“I’m afraid I might… lose you, Master.” The eyes went downwards again.

 

John knew the risks. Everyone did. That’s why slaves were identified by personal chains that linked them to their owners and gave them some small protection. Some owners insisted on leashes, some allowed their slaves to roam freely with papers and names engraved on disks attached to collars, some never allowed them out at all. Unattached slaves…

 

“You can hold onto my belt if you like,” he offered.

 

For a moment they just looked at each other. Usually, only very favored slaves were allowed such an intimate gesture. Rodney then sagged with relief, taking hold of the brown leather and gripping it hard.

 

“Thank you, Master.”

 

“Have you ever owned a slave?” John asked suddenly.

 

“No!” The answer startled John in its indignation. “There have always been slaves and bonded workers in the labs, but I always insisted that they be given a proper education and released after qualifying. I even tutored a couple myself in Physics. I…”

 

Rodney stopped and turned green again, releasing his grip on the belt. “Oh God! I’m sorry, Master.”

 

He seemed to crumple in on himself and cower back, obviously expecting a blow, head held low so as to avoid eye-contact. John grabbed his slave by the top of his left arm in a gesture of reassurance, but also of possession.

 

“It’s OK, Rodney. We’re both new to this, but you must be more careful in public. As it is I don’t think anyone noticed, but… it’s for your own protection as much as anyone else’s.”

 

“Yes, Master. I’m sorry.” His voice was almost a whisper.

 

“There will be a punishment, Rodney, but not till we get home.

 

“Yes Master.”

 

 

John took Rodney’s hand and placed it back on his belt. He was surprised at how good it felt, but he pushed those feelings down and forced himself to concentrate on the matter at hand. They had shopping to do.

 

***

Denver International Airport, Colorado

 

 

As they progressed through the double-layered, pitiful excuse for a shopping area, John felt the grip on his belt grow stronger. Rodney was obviously coming to the realization that he really was not going to be punished, so he allowed himself to relax. John grinned at his new acquisition and decided to explain himself.

 

“I’m looking out for something for you to wear that looks less… State-y?”

 

Rodney didn’t actually say anything, but his thoughts on the validity of that word and the likelihood of it appearing in any English dictionary (American or Canadian) were fairly obvious and written all over his face.

 

John just grinned. He was keen to sort out the chain thing too. The one that Rodney wore was the original military standard issue one that had been fixed and locked on him after his trial and John wanted that changed. Not only would it mean that Rodney would have the protection he needed to be out in public, but also… it would make Rodney obviously belong to John, and John found that he liked that idea too.

 

They weren’t going to find anything here though, not in an airport… but there were some clothing stores. It wasn’t long before Rodney found himself wearing a pair of jeans and a light blue shirt with a pair of running shoes on his feet. His Master had taken the time to change on arrival at the airport, and somehow Rodney had expected the Major to buy him black clothes, like the ones he wore himself. Rodney would have expressed a preference for olive green or brown, but it wasn’t for him to decide. At the end of the day, he was merely thrilled to be wearing something other than the generic, plain, ORANGE, cotton, prison-style fatigues that he had worn non-stop since the trial.

 

“What d’ya think?” John asked as he paid for the clothes.

 

“I… they… um…”

 

“Is that positive or negative?”

 

“Positive, Master, definitely positive.”

 

 

“Well, that’s good.” John nodded with a smug smile, guiding Rodney’s hand to his belt again. “Let’s get some food!”

 

John felt the slight pull on his belt as they went past the Burger Master on the first floor and he stopped. It wasn’t as if Rodney had meant it, but he had been looking around with wide eyes, like a recently released prisoner, and each tug had meant that something had caught his attention.

 

“Burger?”

 

 

“Seriously?” Rodney’s eyes became crystal blue with hope and John laughed again. He felt as though he had done nothing but laugh since bringing Rodney out to meet the real world. He turned and placed a hand on Rodney’s arm.

 

“I was a prisoner for a while in Afghanistan. I remember the first burger I had when I got back. You’d have thought it was a Philly steak! Come on.” John led the way into the restaurant area.

 

Rodney had no idea how to behave in here. He knew that in proper restaurants slaves often sat, or knelt on cushions, on the floor, or ate in the kitchens, but this was a booth, in an airport and there was barely anyone around to copy. Masters and Mistresses just didn’t usually travel with their slaves and, if they did, the slaves were usually in some kind of pen or hold. Rodney shivered with the thought that he might still be pushed into a cage and packed into the cargo hold of the next plane they would take, but that was in the future and he now had fast food to look forward to. He returned his concentration to his Master.

 

 

John took the cheeseburgers and fries and led the way to one of the plastic table and chair arrangements, sitting quickly and unwrapping his prize.

 

“Chair,” he said around his first bite.

 

“Are… are you sure, Master?”

 

“You’ve been in the Military too long, Rodney. They have different rules, because it’s so cut and dried. The hierarchy demands that everyone knows their place. In the real world, there are only people getting on with their lives. You must behave properly, but ‘properly’ is whatever I say it is. Believe me, if I want you kneeling at my feet, you will be. Got it?”

 

 

“Yes, Master.” Rodney gulped, trying to blink away the image of himself kneeling by his Master, sans clothes, in a public place. It was unlikely, but… he blinked again and concentrated on the food… and suddenly all that mattered was the sinful taste of the beef, the bun, the cheese, the monosodium glutamate, even the pickle… heaven-inna-bun! Even the fries tasted different. He had forgotten that these thingies, that were supposed to have once been potatoes, had that wonderful tasty …stuff all around them.

 

 

Rodney heard his Master snigger and looked up.

 

 

“You’re enjoying that. Do you want sauce?”

 

“Ketchup,” Rodney moaned.

 

“Go and get a couple of tubs.” John nodded towards the counter and happily munched the fries.

 

Rodney got up and headed towards the counter, suddenly feeling nervous and adrift without a leash. Even though the Major was sitting only a few feet away, he was away from his Master and vulnerable.

 

At the counter, the girl in the uniform was waiting for him and watching him, but a free traveler turned up, took one look at Rodney, and jumped in.

 

“Excuse me, sir?” The girl tried. “ This…”

 

 

“Two Biggies, fries and coke, one of those chicken grill salads and a milkshake,” the customer said as though Rodney didn’t exist.

 

“I’m sorry, what was it you wanted?” The girl looked at Rodney who hadn’t moved a muscle, but the man looked around at his girlfriend and her brother, and then he slapped Rodney out of the way.

 

Before anyone knew what had happened, the man found himself in a tight headlock.

 

 

“What the…?” The man exclaimed in a kind of whoosh.

 

“Bill!” The girlfriend screamed.

 

“He’s mine and he was first in the queue. Keep your hands off my stuff,” John told the man clearly and tightly. He then let the man go. “I sent him for two tubs of ketchup.”

 

 

The girl behind the counter, who was also a slave, gave him three tubs and then watched her hero drag his slave back with a dreamy look on her face.

 

 

Rodney was shaken. It wasn’t because of the man hitting him. That had become a daily occurrence that he had come to expect, but rather the fact that his Master had just quickly and easily defended him. For a moment he just looked at the Major, and then he slid to his knees.

 

“Hey? Are you OK?”

 

“You…” Rodney stuttered.

 

“Are you hurt?” John persisted.

 

“No Master, not at all. I’m used to it. But you…”

 

The penny dropped and John gasped, “You’re used to it? Used to being pushed around by jerks?”

 

“Yes Master, but…”

 

“But he hit you.” John interrupted.

 

“Yes Master, but…” Rodney tried to express his gratitude, but was cut off again.

 

“And you’re used to being hit.”

 

“Yes Master.”

 

John put his hand on Rodney’s head and ruffled his hair. “You’re mine, Rodney, and I don’t let other people touch my things. I will defend you always. I will be the only one who touches you.”

 

Rodney closed his eyes and added the head-ruffling to his tiny list of ‘welcome touches to be remembered in time of need’. 

 

***

 

Los Angeles

 

The flight to California was long but uneventful and, to his profound relief and astonishment, Rodney was allowed to sit next to his Master, who laughed at him for enjoying the plastic food so much. Rodney told him that he had always liked airplane food and then actually grinned when the Major informed him that he was just weird.

 

Finally a taxi, the driver of which insisted that Rodney go in the hatch-back trunk, as was proper, brought them to John’s bachelor’s pad and the door was opened.

 

It was a holiday-style apartment overlooking the beach with a small, and distinctly unused, kitchen, a living room and a bedroom with en-suite bathroom. It wasn’t much to look at; it lacked the finishing touches that would have made the place a home, but it was clean and not covered in month-old take-out containers.

 

“Do you know how to cook?”

 

John’s voice cut into Rodney’s reflections on the apartment and he raced back to the living room to answer properly.

 

“I used to cook for myself, Master.”

 

“Well, let’s have pizza tonight and then tomorrow we’ll have to go shopping."

 

“Pizza!” Rodney murmured in delight and John laughed.

 

 

Rodney was informed that he would sit at the table with his Master to eat and that he was allowed to take whatever he wanted. If he wanted another slice, then he was to just take it. He should certainly never again look at his Master with a beseeching expression on his face, as though he could transmit his desire for more pizza via telepathy!

 

 

“I don’t think that I should have to work that hard!” John drawled, leaning back and swigging from his beer bottle.

 

 

When the pizza was consumed, John stood to start clearing away, but Rodney interrupted him.

 

 

“Master? Allow me?” and he took the plates from his Master’s hand. “I am your slave.”

 

“Yeah, I got that,” John smiled warmly. “OK, you clear away and I’ll go and lie decadently on the couch in front of the TV. But, Rodney… we still have the matter of punishment…”

 

“I have not forgotten, Master,” Rodney nodded. 

 

“Don’t worry, I’ll let you know when it’s time.”

 

John patted Rodney’s arm and then took his bottle to settle in front of the last quarter of a football game.

~

It was a lack-lustre game, but John sat through it, vaguely aware of Rodney’s pottering around the apartment and pondering the punishment he was going to give. He had to punish his slave for speaking out in forthright a manner in such a public setting, but he didn’t want to destroy the tentative relationship, and anyway, it wasn’t that big of a deal.

 

The slave had un-packed the travel bag he had carried in, and then had picked up a cloth and started to remove the layer of dust that coated the sparse furniture. He had had to leave the purchases made in the airport in their bags, since he had no idea where he should store things that were clearly for his own use.

 

By the time the game ended, Rodney had begun to wonder if his Master was as lonely as he had been when he was a freeman. There was only one photo of a young woman, who had to be the Major’s mother, and it sat in a tarnished silver frame on the solitary side table in front of the window.

 

The paintings on the walls looked as though they had been there since the block was built - they certainly told Rodney nothing about his Master’s taste in art.

 

The furniture was all convenient, utility-style stuff. It all matched but there was no real sense of home, and there was very little in the way of personal artifacts. In fact, apart from removing the dust on the furniture and a number of old spiders’ webs, there really wasn’t much for Rodney to do.

 

“Come and sit here.”

 

Rodney was startled when his Master spoke, but he obeyed and sat, cautiously, on the armchair indicated. This was it… punishment time.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How is the Major going to punish Rodney? How much will it hurt?

Los Angeles, Major Sheppard's apartment

 

“Do you have any family?” John asked gently.

 

“F…family?” Rodney asked, startled.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Just my sister, Master.”

 

“Sister? Do you wish to call her?”

 

“Not really, Master,” Rodney admitted. “I haven’t spoken to her since… since the trial.”

 

“That was five years ago!” John cried, astounded.

 

Rodney was astonished. “Five…” he repeated. “I… I lost track.”

 

John smiled as reassuringly as he could, “It’s easy to lose track when every day is the same.” He pulled himself up and leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. “Rodney… it’ll take some time, but I want you to trust me. I know that you will find this hard… I’m sure that you feel that you will never be able to trust anyone ever again… But I’m serious, if you want to phone your sister, then please do. If you want to use the computer then we’ll set up an account for you, but you may as well use mine in the short time we’ll be here.”

 

“I have no one to contact, Master.”

 

The bleakness of the statement almost broke John’s heart. “Your sister?” he persisted.

 

“She doesn’t want to hear from me, Master. She disowned me.”

 

“Parents?”

 

“Dead.”

 

“Friends?” John was pretty sure what the answer was, but he asked anyway.

 

“Carson knows where I am.” Rodney looked down at his folded hands.

 

“Do you not have other friends?”

 

John watched as Rodney took a deep breath and then his eyes flickered up to meet his Master’s.

 

“I’m petty, rude and bad with people, Master. I have annoyed almost everyone I have ever met and I do not possess any tact. I’m arrogant and so anyone I may have ever liked soon finds a good reason to hate me. I have no friends other than Carson and he… he‘s just too nice… he was even prepared to befriend me.” Rodney’s eyes, which had drifted back down to focus on his new (and now slightly uncomfortable) shoes, now lifted up to meet his Master’s. “I’m a poor gift, Master. I’m sorry.”

 

John was uncomfortable with so much emotion on display, but he also understood that Rodney was terrified and sure that he would be rejected. It was almost as though he were pushing for John to just deliver the blow quickly.

 

“Yeah… well… let’s just get to know each other first, then we’ll decide whether you are a burden or an asset, huh?” He smiled and patted Rodney on the shoulder.

 

“Yes Master. Master?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Is it t… time for my p… punishment?”

 

“Yes.” John stood and Rodney went to his knees. John stepped closer and slapped Rodney on the back of his head. “Don’t do it again! Now, why don’t you go get a beer from the fridge? They’re mostly within date.”

 

Rodney didn’t move. He just stared up at his Master, mouth open, completely speechless.

 

“Rodney?”

 

“That… was the punishment?” he asked, dumbfounded.

 

“Yeah! Now fetch me a beer, Slave!” John grinned and swept his arm dramatically to accompany the joking words.

 

“Master?”

 

Bright blue eyes were trained on him and John realized that Rodney was about to disobey another standard rule and ask for something. He could tell, because Rodney was summoning the courage to do it and John knew that asking for something, if you were a slave in the service of the Military, was tantamount to asking for a flogging.

 

“Ask, Rodney. There’ll be no more punishment.”

 

“M…may I use the bathroom, Master?”

 

“What?” John was wrong-footed by this. “I told you earlier not to ask.”

 

“Yes Master… please forgive me.” His eyes dropped and fear made Rodney shiver. Now he was disobeying not only the standing order but also the direct orders of his Master. He also asked for forgiveness with the air of someone who knew that his request would be denied.

 

John thought quickly and realization made him gasp and grab hold of Rodney’s chin.

 

“No! You misunderstood! I said you didn’t need to ask. You can go whenever you want! You don’t have to ask first!”

 

“B… but… that’s not… you’ll give me a… a pass?” Rodney was the one gasping now.

 

“A pass?”

 

“Some privately owned slaves get a pass… to go…” Rodney blushed, which almost made John grin.

 

“I didn’t know there was such a thing! Yeah, I can get one of those!”

 

“You… you trust me, Master?”

 

“Yeah, I trust you. You’re not going to run away are you?”

 

It wasn’t really a question, but Rodney still agreed quickly with a shake of his head. Why on earth would he run away from the best thing that had ever happened to him?

 

“Now, I need a shower after all that travelling, so, when you’ve… you know… I’ll go and see to that while you go and make the bed. You get the couch, so you’ll need to dig out… well, there’s a sleeping bag in the wardrobe I think. What?”

 

Once again Rodney’s face showed pure amazement.

 

“You’ll allow me…?”

 

“Yes! I’m an officer and I’m good at making decisions. You needn’t question my orders! Now, go to the bathroom, then you can see to the bed and then we can sleep.” John insisted hoping that orders would help settle the emotional slave.

 

“Yes Master,” Rodney agreed and ran to obey.

 

~

 

Rodney wasn’t really that tired, in spite of hour-changes, three long flights and the mental torture of coping with the minefield of trying to please his baffling Master and waiting for punishments that turned out not to be punishing at all, so he just lay back on the couch, snuggled up in the sleeping bag, and tried to think about his sudden change in fortune.

 

It kept his mind occupied for over an hour but the only conclusion he could reach was that he should not get used to this. This was a once-in-lifetime chance and he should enjoy it as long as it lasted. He was... had been Rodney McKay and it would soon be over, like everything else that had possibly been good in his life.

 

Sleep refused to come. In spite of being under a warm cover and on a soft surface for the first time in many years, he was uncomfortable. He was used to the floor, vinyl covered and hard, sometimes with a blanket and, rarely, with a thin pillow. The only other surface had been the carpet at the foot of the bed of which ever free man had decided to use him. He remembered once being made to stay in the bed of his rapist, but it hadn’t been a pleasant experience and he hadn’t slept.

 

Now, he was on a couch. It was soft and long enough but it wasn’t comfortable.

 

The other problem was the overpowering sense of vulnerability. There was no one else in the room with him. He was all alone. He couldn’t hear another person breathing and there were no snores… and he couldn’t bear it. He actually felt lonely!

 

In the end, he had to do something, or else risk angering his Master with his sleep deprived clumsiness in the morning. He had no illusions. Just because he had gotten away with it so far and his Master had been so kind, there were far nastier punishments he could hand out for bad service than a slap on the head and being forced to watch a game. So he slipped out of his sleeping bag, took the pillow and slipped into his Master’s room. There was room at the foot of his bed, so Rodney laid himself down, put his head on the pillow and, after warning himself to wake early, fell asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

California

 

Rodney had become used to waking up early in the morning. Often he was called upon to serve, or else he had to be first into a lab to check an experiment, or simulation, thus allowing the free scientist to stay in bed. At least he had kept hold of his brilliance and he had been trusted to do very complicated work. In a lot of cases, he had even been able to supply the correct answer to a problem, and Dr Zelenka had snatched him as often as possible to be his lab assistant. Not that this had ever stopped the Marines from seeing him as a slave who needed to be punished.

Rodney banished such miserable thoughts and reminded himself that he had nothing to fear. His Master would be the only one to use him, from now on, and he welcomed the thought that he might actually enjoy the sexual experience for the first time ever.

Now, he had a task to complete before his dozing Master awoke and he stowed away his sleeping bag and pillow and headed into the kitchen. As it turned out, there was nothing in the apartment that Rodney could use to make a breakfast, except for some coffee grounds which he discovered in the freezer, so he made coffee and then went to wake the Major up.

They breakfasted in a diner where John was greeted like a prodigal son. Once he explained who Rodney was, they were happy for him to sit opposite the Major, telling Rodney that he had the best Master in the whole world.

“I stopped a thief who was trying to rob the till by having a bigger gun than he did!” John explained modestly, blushing. “They’ll let me have anything I want!”

Rodney waited for the Major to tell him what he was going to eat, as was the norm, but his Master chuckled and handed him the menu.

“You have whatever you want. They never charge me the full price anyway!”

“Anything?” Rodney asked querulously.

“Yup! Take your pick!” John replied with a huge grin.

 

In the end Rodney, unable to cope with such autonomy, chose the same as his Master and they worked their way through a massive pile of pancakes with bacon, eggs and maple syrup. John was distracted by the ecstatic murmurs and slurps coming from his companion, but it was worth it just to see the expression on pure bliss on Rodney’s face. John was beginning to build up the terrifying picture of Rodney’s life as a military slave, and he was coming to the conclusion that his new mission in life was to make up for it.

In Atlantis, there would be protocols and behaviors expected of both of them in public and John knew that he would have to back it up with punishment should Rodney forget himself. It wouldn’t be just head slaps either. Rodney would be allowed to assist in some capacity in the Science department, assuming they could persuade Dr Zelenka to allow the slave into the labs. They were also assuming that there would be labs in Atlantis, but whatever they found there, the Scientists would be in great demand.

John, on the other hand, was a misfit. It was a civilian operation, but he was Military, and yet the military presence would be from the Marines. As the only Air Force officer on the expedition, his duties would be less military and more… well, light-switch really. He had the strongest gene, so he would be used strategically when and where needed, but it was not yet obvious whether or not he would have any real authority there.

 

After breakfast, John drove them both to the Mall.

Normally, he would have avoided this place like… like Afghanistan, but this time he needed to stock up, not only for himself, but also for Rodney.

Rodney would be obliged to wear the uniform of a slave attached to either the Science Department or the Military, John wasn’t sure yet as he’d never owned a slave and had no idea what they wore. It was a civilian mission and Rodney was a scientist, but his Master was Military. Whatever, they would be issued with uniforms when they arrived back in Colorado, but they needed casual clothes too.

Apart from the Marine Custodians, there were not many slaves going, but each one was allocated, or privately owned and would be watched very carefully, possibly even restrained if Dr Weir felt it was required. The Senior Staff were allowed to take personal slaves, although it wasn’t clear whether or not Dr Weir would be taking hers. Rodney was also listed as John’s personal slave, so, anything that was not a part of the uniform, would have to be provided by John.

 

They began with the easy stuff - underwear and shoes. There was no way that John was going to allow Rodney to wander around in bare feet, or those ridiculous sandals that slaves often ended up surviving in. Rodney had a pair of running shoes already and now he also had a pair of walking boots and a pair of Dr Marten’s shoes that matched John’s.

Tee-shirts were next. John bought a dozen of his favorite black tee-shirts and then the same in olive green, by request, and grey-blue for Rodney. They both had two pairs of sweatpants and shorts, although Rodney was not keen on the idea of jogging in the mornings.

 

Finally, they braved the Chain Store. 

Neither of them had ever been in one before. It was a perfectly normal shop and this particular one was one of a large national chain, but it was still a shop for buying accessories for a human possession. Neither John nor Rodney had ever owned a slave and so neither had ever had to enter into a place like this before. There were many abolitionists who decried the practice of slavery, but John was military and so had never really thought about it much, being too used to orders and regulations in his own life to worry about others’.

There was an identical expression of dismay on the face of both slave and Master as they were halted in the lobby at the sight of the wares. It was probably the Chain theme that was worrying them both. There were just chains everywhere and signs offering all kinds of punishment weapons, restraints and even sexual aids.

John spotted the ‘Jewelry’ sign and moved towards it rather quickly, with Rodney hanging onto his belt with a death grip. John stopped and turned to see that his slave’s eyes were down, focused on the belt. 

“Hey!” He gently detached the hand from his belt and felt how cold it was. He then patted Rodney’s shoulder. “Don’t panic. We’re here for a collar. Nothing else.” Rodney’s eyes searched his and John watched the fear recede a little. He smiled encouragingly. “It’s upstairs. Come on.”

In spite of the obsequious attendant, the ridiculous prices, the insistence that he try each collar on his slave and the horrible scene going on, at the other counter, John managed to keep his temper.

Opposite there was a girl of about twenty, who was being collared by a master, who had to slap her three times before she would wear the thick, rigid, steel collar he had chosen. He kept reminding her of all the other accessories he had purchased for to encourage her to obey. Both John and Rodney tried their best to ignore the scene, but it was hard. The only good thing was that Rodney seemed to be making sure that he was as close to his Master as possible, and John was pleased to offer some protection.

 

Eventually, once the scene was over and the protagonists had left, John chose a simple necklace of flat nickel-sized gold links that would have to be cut off to be removed. He also chose a small disc to hold the legal details, such as the slave’s number, the name of the slave’s Master and how he could be contacted.

After handing over his ID, he was told that they would have to wait for at least ten minutes while the engraver did his job, so John took Rodney to the café. It was disconcerting to see that the café’s rules insisted that Rodney was forced to kneel at John’s feet, but since the scientist did it instinctively, John decided to relax and accept it.

As it was, John felt that he needed to reassure his slave. He handed him his coffee, enjoying the slave’s moan of bliss, and then leaned down and put his hand on Rodney’s shoulder.

“Listen, I’m sorry about this. It has to be done and, in the end, it’s for your own protection. I tried to choose one that was not too obvious and yet which shows that… that I’m proud to be your Master.”

Rodney’s eyes widened and he barely blinked as he watched John’s face for signs of derision or insincerity, but the Major’s hazel eyes looked at him steadily.

“I’m not worried, Master,” Rodney found himself actually comforting the Major; not a role he was used to playing. “I have worn this ugly chain for the last… was it five years? I belonged to no one and everyone and there were no regulations to protect me, but now I am owned by an honorable officer… I’ll be proud to wear it, Master.”

John smiled and then chuckled, “Don’t get mushy on me! Drink up and let’s go get this thing.”

~

“Will you be having a private collaring ceremony, sir?” The fawning assistant asked, hands clasped in front of him like something from a gothic horror movie.

“A what?” John asked, baffled. Rodney was no help. He just shrugged in answer to his Master’s questioning look.

“Your slave must be claimed with two witnesses, sir. I have the legal forms here and you can register here, or else at the Registrar’s office within 28 days of the binding.” The man explained patiently.

“I can’t just slip the damned thing on him?” John’s eyebrow was raised questioningly, accompanied by a little lip curl.

“Some Masters like to throw a party for it, sir. We can put you in contact with a Binding Party Planner if you…”

“No!” John interrupted sharply. “No, no fuss. We’ll just do it now, OK?”

“Certainly, sir.” The attendant seemed disappointed. “Shall I call for my supervisor?”

“Yeah, why not?” John drawled, face scrunched. When the guy behind the counter was safely on the phone, John turned to Rodney to reassure him. “I’ve no idea what this is about, but I don’t want a big production.”

“Thank you, Master.”

“Do you know what this is about?”

“Not really, Master, but I once went to a Binding Party.”

“You didn’t enjoy it,” John assumed from the perturbed expression on his slave’s face.

“I didn’t stay long enough. It was tasteless and…” Rodney’s eyes flickered over to where the girl had been bound to her Master earlier.

“The slave wasn’t a willing participant?”

“Not at all. Master?”

John felt almost blinded by the brilliant blue eyes that suddenly fixed their attention on him. Rodney’s full attention was really quite startling. “Uh… yes?”

“I want this, Master.”

“What?”

“I want to be your slave, Master,” Rodney stated solemnly. 

“You do?” John frowned. “Why?”

“It’s the best thing that ever happened to me, Master, better than my doctorates, better than… than Physics.”

“But…” John was interrupted by the horrid attendant.

“Sir? The manager herself will be here in a moment.”

“The manager? Why?” John asked, baffled.

“Sir, I think you are more important than you led me to believe. You are a Major, are you not?”

“USAF, yes, why?”

“An officer and a gentleman,” the man beamed as though this were the best day of his life.

“All right, Horace! I’ll take it from here,” a lady in a fine suit announced and Horace’s eager face fell. “Major Sheppard?”

“Yes?”

“I’m Madam Jane Kingsley and I manage this store. Horace informs me that you are binding your first slave.”

“Um… correct,” John failed to find anything more erudite to say and his voice was cracking embarrassingly.

Madam Kingsley smiled reassuringly, “Come with me Major, and we’ll get this done quickly.” She took him into a small room that looked a bit like a studio. There was another lady in the store’s uniform, waiting with forms and a fountain pen at a desk. “Your records are here,” Madam Kingsley indicated the computer, “so your forms are already in order, apart from the signatures. What will you call him?”

The tone of that last question was conversational, the name ‘Rodney’ would not appear on any forms as the slave’s name was an arbitrary thing, bestowed on the slave by his Master. It was quite conceivable that, should John wish to sell Rodney or hand him over to someone else, then the slave’s name would be changed.

“His name is Rodney. What do we have to do? I want to get this done quickly.” John’s tone was impatient.

“Of course, Major. Order your slave to kneel.”

“You heard the lady,” John growled and was pleased to see a small flicker of a smile on Rodney’s face.

“Now, place the collar around his neck and snap it together. Pull out the red tag and it will be permanent.”

“What if I sell him?” John asked, rubbing Rodney’s neck to reassure him.

“Then you’ll have to get this collar cut off. Now, read this aloud, please.” She handed him a copy of the form.

“I declare that slave number 6003985SG-COL4921 belongs to me, John Sheppard and is now my responsibility in all things.” He looked back at the manager. “Is that it, or do I have to read the small print too?”

“No, that’s it. If it was a voluntary contract, there’d be some more stuff about the slave entering into it through free-will, but your slave is a convict.” She looked down at Rodney. “Your slave must now, in the presence of two witnesses, complete the ceremony. Can he read?”

“He has 2 doctorates; I think he can manage to read a piece of paper,” John answered dryly.

“Then he must read this statement aloud. After that he must place his head on the ground. If you approve of his attitude, then you accept and he will kiss your feet. You are the only person who can allow him to rise from that position.” She smiled at him as though she were announcing a wedding.

“Let’s get on with it,” John huffed and passed the form to Rodney.

“I am slave No. 6003985SG-COL4921 and I am owned by John Sheppard. Master, I submit to you in all things until death,” Rodney announced in a voice that wasn’t quite respectful. He sounded as though all of this was just ridiculous, but to be endured to appease the morons. He held the form out and John took it back. Their eyes met and John was pleased to see his own amusement reflected in the expression on his slave’s face, so he stroked Rodney’s neck again.

Rodney then knelt with his forehead on the floor, but John quickly indicated that he was OK with his slave’s behavior and he approved of the attitude. Rodney then moved forward and kissed John’s military boots, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand afterwards, to John’s amusement.

“Can he get up now?” John asked.

The manager seemed a little disappointed, but she smiled professionally and waved her hand to indicate something or other. “Now, we can cut off the previous state collar.” The assistant approached with a leash. “You haven’t pulled the tab out yet, sir.”

“I just pull it?”

“Yes sir… then you need to imprint your commands.”

“My what?”

“First, when you pull the tab, choose a code word. If your slave attempts to remove his collar without your voice code, it will explode.”

“What? You mean if I’m not there… what happens if I die?”

“Only this company, or a legal tribunal can authorize the removal of the collar without your spoken permission, sir.”

“But that’s… that’s…”

“It’s quite normal, sir.”

John looked down at it and met Rodney’s eyes. Rodney shrugged, clearly resigned.

“You ready?”

Rodney nodded and bared his neck. The little piece of plastic pulled out easily and there was an ominous click as the mechanism locked together. The Manager gestured for John to speak and he grimaced, then said, “Ferris Wheel.”

Rodney snorted, but restrained himself, while the Manager and her assistant looked baffled. Slave and Master just exchanged reassuring glances, until the Manager approached with the leash and reached for the new collar.

“What the hell are you doing?” John asked with an angry edge in his tone.

“We need to take him out to the workshop to have the old collar removed, sir,” the assistant explained with eyes wide in apprehension. 

“I’ll do any ‘taking’ required, thank you.” He grabbed the leash and placed it on the desk. “I’ll be going to this workshop too.”

The store people exchanged glances, and John was almost sure he heard Rodney mutter about ‘idiots’, but the manager smiled and nodded and they were led into the small room where there was plenty of machinery and a lot of noise.

Rodney was told to kneel forward and rest his forehead on a small platform, then a man in a boiler suit stepped forward and placed a sturdy piece of asbestos between Rodney’s neck and the old chain. He then used a whirring jewelry saw to slice through the chain in two places. It took some time and the asbestos was needed to catch the sparks, but soon it was off.

“Of course, the state ones are really quite easy to remove with the correct equipment as they are loose enough,” the metal smith told John conversationally. “Sometimes there can be complications caused by chains that are too tight, or chains that were placed on children who have grown. I disapprove of that kind of thing and we refuse to sell anything other than standard lengths.”

John tried to be polite, but he just wanted to get them both out of the place.

“Can we go now?” He asked as Rodney was allowed up. Rodney just looked beseechingly at him, as though by wishing, he could make them both transport home.

“You just need to sign the forms for registration and, I’m afraid, there is still the matter of payment,” the Manager reminded him. 

“Let’s get it over with,” John sighed, resigned.

~

 

It wasn’t soon enough before they were on their way out of the store, but John was surprised to feel a tug on his belt. He turned to see that Rodney was blushing.

“What do you want?” John snapped but then realized, when Rodney flinched, that he shouldn’t be taking his frustration out on his slave. “Sorry, do you need something else?” he asked more calmly.

It took a few moments for Rodney to get up the courage to ask, but eventually he managed a quiet, “Leash.”

“I’m sorry? Did you say you want a leash?”

Rodney nodded, eyes still firmly fixed on the floor.

“Why?”

Rodney’s blue eyes met his, filled with some desperation.

“Security, Master.”

John thought back to the way Rodney had almost fallen into a panic attack back at the civilian airport, and he smiled in understanding and nodded.

“Let’s go and choose one together,” John offered, steering them back into the store.

 

Rodney couldn’t choose. He could only watch and wait while John chose a simple leather rope with the kind of attachment that clicked open with pressure.

“I don’t want one that locks,” he explained to Rodney. “You will always be able to undo it, should you wish to.”

“Why?” Rodney asked with eyes wide.

“Because I trust you,” John told him firmly.

This gained precisely the reaction John was looking for. The blue eyes opened to their fullest extent and the mouth curved up into a delightful smile.

“Seriously?” 

“Yes! I wasn’t going to bother at all, but you are right, it will be good for you to have that security. Come on, let’s pay and go home.”

“Master?”

“Yeah?” John looked around, clearly expecting an embarrassed, stammered expression of gratitude.

 

“Ferris Wheel?” The slave certainly didn’t look grateful… if John had to choose a word, it would probably be deriding.

 

At home again, Rodney was surprised to be left alone to get himself from the car to the apartment. He had expected the Major to grasp the leash and lead him home, but instead his Master had just got out of the car and raced ahead. Rodney climbed out of the car, from where he had been sitting, once again, in the passenger seat rather than the expected trunk, and made his way over to the door.

 

John was already sprawled on the couch, fiddling with the remote. He looked up at Rodney, who was holding onto his own leash and looking bemused, and grinned lazily.

 

“You can take it off now.”

 

“I thought…” Rodney began.

 

“It was your choice to put it on, and you will be the one to take it off. I’m not interested in that stuff. You are right, there will be times when you will have to be leashed… that’s just the rules, but you and I will know that it is your choice to obey. I kinda like the idea.”

“Master…” Rodney said, but he wasn’t sure what he wanted to say. There were no words for the emotions that were bubbling up, and he suddenly found that he was fighting tears. He just didn’t know how he could have stumbled into something so good, and he was terrified that he would lose it. He was almost afraid to speak, knowing that he was capable of ruining everything all by himself, without prompting. How many times had he been punished cruelly for his inability to suffer fools and curb his tongue?

He fell to his knees and hid his face in the arm of the couch, afraid to open his mouth and ruin it all.

“Hey!” a hand buried itself in his hair and he shivered. “I know, it’s all… weird. I know it’s scary for you…”

“I’m terrified, Master,” Rodney gulped in spite of himself and he lifted his eyes to see the concerned face of his Master.

“I’m not that strict,” John soothed.

“That you’ll s…sell me when you know.”

“Know?” John frowned and pulled Rodney’s face up by lifting under his cheek. “Know what?”

“Me, Master.” Water-filled blue eyes met his again, desperation deeply embedded in them. “I’m not… I don’t deserve this.”

“No, I know. I read your file. It seems… harsh you know?”

“No, I deserve that. I nearly killed off half of the SGC. I was rude to Major Carter. I mean that I… I’m not good enough for you… for this. I’m arrogant, rude and bad with people… Master,” he finished up with a glance at the man he was addressing and John frowned.

“You keep calling me that. You can call me John if you like,” John offered again.

Rodney visibly recoiled. “No… no, I can’t!”

“Rodney, I don’t know what this is about. You always call me ‘Master’ in practically every sentence, you panic if I do anything… what is it?”

“Have to… Master,” Rodney mumbled, his head buried in his hands again.

John sighed and decided to be proactive… however much he detested that word. He stood up and turned the TV off.

“Rodney,” he used his best officer’s voice and toned down the drawl. “Turn and face me, but remain on your knees.”

Rodney obeyed quickly, his hands linking behind his back, back straight, but eyes lowered. It was obviously a pose he was used to.

“I am your Master. I placed that collar on you today and it is permanent. It carries my name and your number, so you can not get away from me. You have a subcutaneous tracking device that can also be used to bring you back to me. I accepted you as a kind of bribe to get me to go to Atlantis and I now own you. You are a brilliant scientist, a fine man and you will be able to work with me to help me in Atlantis. Do you agree with me so far?”

“Yes Master,” Rodney agreed firmly.

“Now, listen carefully. I will punish you if you misbehave. I will shout at you, beat you, or lock you up if I think that you have acted against my express wishes.” John put a soft emphasis on the word ‘my’. “No one else, either here or in the Pegasus Galaxy has the right to pass judgment over you, and no one can, or will stop me from punishing you. All clear?”

“Yes Master,” Rodney responded again and John could see that his slave was shaking.

“You belong to me and nothing will induce me to give you away or sell you. I’ve never owned a slave before, so I do not have the habits of other Masters or Mistresses. I can protect you and look after you and I want to. I want you to be happy. Look at me, please.” He put a touch of command into the last sentence.

Rodney lifted his eyes and his frightened eyes met the confident hazel ones of his Master.

“I will never punish you for failing to call me ‘Master’. You can call me whatever you like behind closed doors, although I know that you will be polite in company. I will never try to trap you so I can punish you. I will not send you out to do my dirty work. You won’t have to perform any kind of sexual act… what?”

Rodney had gasped. “You… you… you… you’re kidding!”

“I am not going to joke about anything as serious as this. I… no, we’ll talk about that later. Rodney, I really want you to find some happiness. You can ask me anything… for anything and I’ll try to accommodate you. I can’t promise you everything, because I can’t see into the future and, let’s face it, we’re leaving this galaxy…”

John suddenly stepped backwards and fell into an armchair. Rodney immediately sprang to his side.

“Master? Master?” There was a note of panic in his voice.

“Sorry… It just… I… we’re going to a different galaxy!” He allowed the shock to show on his, normally relaxed, face. “Sit on the couch, Rodney, you don’t have to, you know… behave here.”

“Can I fetch you a drink…?” John watched as Rodney didn’t say ‘Master’, and he smiled.

“There’s nothing left. We’d better go to the store at some point.” John leaned forward and grasped Rodney’s shoulder. “You’re a genius, Rodney, tell me what we’re going to.”

~

 

The store was another big area for Rodney to come to grips with. Even when he had been free, supermarkets had happened to other people. His food and necessaries had been delivered or else obtained at which ever university, college, laboratory, or secret military base under a mountain he happened to be working at. 

He had put the leash on himself. For the past five years, he had been on a leash at all times when out of the slave rooms and so being without it felt like being adrift in a stormy sea. He still expected to be pounced on by the people around and dragged back to the mountain, to be used and abused again.

As they got out of the car - he was in the passenger seat again - the security guard at the entrance to the store happened to be looking his way, so he quickly dashed around to his Master’s side and held out the loop at the end of the leash.

John saw the scared eyes, so he took the leash and slipped his hand through it.

“You’re with me. No one will stop you,” John reassured his slave.

“Yes Master,” Rodney agreed, but he still couldn’t help expecting the guard to come and grab him, drag him back to the staff room and…

“Rodney!” John drawled, interrupting his slave’s panicked thoughts. “It’s a supermarket. Anyone touches you and I’ll report them, OK?”

 

Rodney nodded. He was safe, he reminded himself, nodding and purposefully following the Major. Safe. Secure. No one would rape him or beat him here.

Initially, John tried to get Rodney involved in the whole food choosing thing, but Rodney was too busy freaking out to be able to contribute much. In fact John even picked up a lemon tart and asked him if he liked it. When Rodney agreed, John knew that his slave was nowhere near firing on all cylinders. 

Observation led John to realize that they were not the only Master/slave combination in the store, so he did as others did. He took Rodney’s security-blanket leash, unclipped it, fed the clip through the loop around the cart’s handle and then clipped it back onto Rodney’s collar.

“Now push,” he commanded and instantly saw the relief on his slave’s face… that he could do this and be useful. John patted him on his shoulder and was rewarded with a smile. In fact, it was a rather disconcerting smile. It was filled with adoration and John had the distinct feeling that he was being worshipped, like some kind of minor deity.

The shopping went better after that. In fact, John reflected, it was rather convenient to have his cart follow him around, waiting to be filled. When they got to the checkout, Rodney immediately started to unload the stuff onto the belt, in spite of the restriction on his movement. He then barged John out of the way with the cart, when he picked up some bags at the other end. He glared his Master into submission, forcing him to watch as Rodney did all the work, causing a delighted grin to appear on John’s face.

 

When they reached the car, the groceries went into the trunk and Rodney stared at his Master.

“What?” John asked, frowning.

“Do I have your permission to… to release myself, Master?”

John looked at the space between the car and the place where the trolleys were stored, and saw the problem.

“Of course, Rodney. How else could it work?”

Rodney dipped his gaze a little, but he answered candidly.

“I’ve never been in a position where I could release myself, Master. But I have… been in this position before.”

Eyebrows clenched, John nodded his permission and then got into the car to think. By the time Rodney came back, however, he had worked it out.

“I will never create a circumstance so that I have the opportunity to punish you,” John told his slave firmly.

Rodney smiled and worshipped his Master again. Then, suddenly, John grabbed Rodney’s wrist and his expression was dark. For some reason, Rodney felt no fear. He knew he was terrible at reading people, and he found it hard to understand some of the expressions he saw on faces, but with the Major, he felt safe and secure.

“Rodney, you are mine! If anyone dares to try that with you… We’ll have a private channel on the radio system… assuming it will work there… and you can call for me if you are placed in an unfair position like that. I can’t guarantee that I’ll be able to protect you all the time from petty indignities… you are a slave after all, but I will not allow you to be put into danger, or to be compromised like that,” John promised solemnly. 

For a few tense seconds, Rodney waited to see if there was anything else, then he twisted his wrist around and took hold of his Master’s hand in both of his. He then, tentatively and expecting to be prevented, lifted the hand up and bowed his head over it. He had never felt moved to do anything like this willingly, although it had been forced upon him with alarming regularity, but this time it was genuine as he, very lightly, kissed the paw in his hands. 

It was a very charged moment. John was not entirely sure what was going on, but he realized that Rodney was showing his submission to his Master, thanking him and finding a gesture that made sense in that crazy genius head.

John allowed it for a moment and then he pulled away. He sensed Rodney tensing up, expecting ridicule or maybe censure, but he lifted Rodney’s chin so that the slave was looking at him, and then he smiled. No words were needed, as John cupped Rodney’s cheek for a second and then turned his attention back to driving the car home.

 

John had left the curtains open so that he would wake when the dawn light streamed in through the high windows. He had been inactive for too long and he knew that his body was screaming for a run, so he woke content and ready for action.

It took only a moment to persuade himself out of the comfort of his non-military bed, and another to stretch and head for the door.

He certainly wasn’t expecting to trip over anything. John’s military training would never allow him to spread his discarded clothes or shoes around on the floor, so finding himself flat on the floor, top half in the living room and bottom half in the bedroom was quite a shock.

John dragged himself up to a sitting position and simultaneously realized that there was movement in the bedroom. Blue, scared eyes peeped up at him and then ducked back down to fasten themselves to the floor.

John shook his head and took in the situation. Rodney was prostrate, knees tucked under his body, hands flat on the floor on either side of his forehead and he was trembling.

“What the hell were you doing on the floor at…” John stopped. Firstly Rodney was crawling backwards, huddling with his forehead still on the floor as he reached the corner of the room, although his arms were now cradling his head protectively, and secondly, John realized what had happened.

“You were sleeping at the… the foot of my bed,” John cried out in astonishment. It was such a cliché that John had found himself hesitating over the words. It spoke of devotion and romance and children’s books where the hero’s faithful slave did just that, but it didn’t explain why Rodney had done it.

John got to his feet and then crouched by his terrified slave. He could feel the tremors going through the skinny body as he guided Rodney’s shoulders up off the floor and then lifted his chin so he could see his slave’s face.

 

“I’m sorry, Master, I’m sorry… Oh… I’m sorry…” Rodney babbled.

“Rodney, calm down.” John brushed his thumb over Rodney’s cheek in an effort to show that he wasn’t angry. “Hey! I don’t mind… I tripped over you, that’s all, but I need you to explain to me why you didn’t sleep on the sofa?”

“I’m sorry, Master, I’m…”

“Yes, I get that you’re sorry,” John managed to sound amused rather than cross. “I just want to know why you slept here.”

“I…” Rodney looked down, even though his face was held up by his Master’s hand. “I… I’m not used to being… alone,” he explained softly and with some embarrassment. “I couldn’t sleep on the sofa…” he risked looking up and was surprised to see that the Major’s face showed nothing but concern. 

“Too soft?” John guessed.

“Yes Master. I’m sorry.”

“Look, I need to go for a run.” John decided that he just needed to think for a while and that Rodney could probably do with some time alone too. “I’ll be gone for about an hour I should think, so you’re free till then. Get the beds made and tidy up a bit and then we’ll have breakfast when I get back.”

 

John quickly changed, after throwing Rodney out of his room, and ran, following the path along the sea front and reveling in the warmth and freedom of the morning air. He had never had a slave before and he had never realized what a responsibility it really was.

 

~

Rodney’s father had always made a point of telling him exactly how little he was wanted at home. Rodney’s mother had been a proper mother, with all the hugging and nurturing and caring, right up until she had discovered that she was carrying a baby girl. At that moment, Rodney’s place in his own family was gone.

There had been aunts and uncles, but mostly they had stayed away from Rodney’s father’s ferocious temper and the only aunt who had ever come near him had been a little more severe than Hitler.

Rodney had grown up alone, waiting for the day when he could find someone who could bear to have him around. Major Dr Sam Carter had been the best person he had ever met, until she told him to leave her alone and stop stalking her. Then he had put her friends in danger and Rodney had been enslaved.

Carson had been the kindest and sweetest doctor a person could ever hope for, and he put up with Rodney’s vicious barbs at his profession, his whining about minor injuries and even his attempts to be friendly, but Carson was busy with his own research, quite apart from running the surgery when needed. He had still been the only person who had stood up for Rodney at his trial.

Now he was owned by the most handsome, most wonderful, kindest Master he could ever have fantasized about and he had gone and spoiled it. 

Rodney had known from the beginning that it wouldn’t last, that anything remotely good that had ever happened to him would be tainted and then destroyed by something. He was even aware that it was mostly his own fault.

When he had gained a scholarship to Toronto University at the age of fifteen, he had flown from the family home with such glee and delight, that even the taxi driver had commented.

It had been great! Labs, work, research, two degrees simultaneously; everything he had ever dreamed of. Then his personality had let him down. He soon understood that the students he worked with were idiots who knew nothing about science. They all seemed to think that work was pointless, that all they needed to do was drink their way through college and then turn up for the finals and wing it. Besides, they could always bully Rodney into doing their work for them.

For the grand prize of not being beaten up, Rodney learned how to run sixteen experiments all at the same time, how to work all week to complete nine papers and make them all different enough that they didn’t look like he had done them. 

It had been the same thing through his Master’s degree, including that fun incident when his topic had had to be abandoned because the simulation had failed. He had had to start again, even though he knew that his work had been sabotaged. Not even the professors liked him.

Two PhDs and two jobs later, Rodney had come to Area 51 where events had led to him being the hated, ostracized, arrogant jerk who was, unfortunately, actually a genius. There he had proved himself as good as he looked on paper and had been lent to the SGC… where he had met Samantha Carter.

 

Rodney reflected on his life, his own character, his failings as a human being and his lack of any good points that could possibly persuade his Master to keep him, and knew that he had more unpleasantness ahead of him.

This time they wouldn’t assign him to a lab to do all the menial and laborious tasks. He wouldn’t be scrubbing floors, cleaning out guinea pigs’ cages, preparing dangerous chemicals and generally doing anything that no one else would do if they were free. 

This time it would be the Military Barracks. He had done enough tours down there to know what fate awaited him, but always before he had been able to escape and get back to the labs or the slave hall. Now he would be one of those poor dumb creatures who were chained there, unable to move away and unable to do anything for themselves except lie back and be used and dream of death.

Rodney fought to keep the tears from sliding down his cheeks as he foresaw his future and he got breakfast together in an attempt to cling to this paradise for just a few hours longer. 

 

~

Just over an hour later, John threw open the front door and was treated to the sight of Rodney zooming out of the kitchen to throw himself to the ground at his Master’s feet.

“Oh, crap,” John sighed. “Rodney, get up. Now!”

Rodney got to his knees and put his hands behind his back, eyes lowered, back straight. His rigid posture made it more obvious that he was still afraid.

“Rodney, I’m not going to punish you.” Rodney looked up at his Master’s face in astonishment and John ruffled his slave’s hair. “Sure, I wish you had mentioned that you were going to sleep… you know… there, but really, I’m not hurt or angry and I am not going to punish you for a mistake. Do you understand me?”

“M…Master?” Rodney asked for permission to speak in a shaky voice and John nodded. “I…” but Rodney had no more words. A tear slipped down his face and he stared up at his owner with adoration written clearly on his face.

“Get up now please.” John commanded softly and was pleased to see Rodney do just that.

“I… I made b… breakfast, Master.” Rodney’s voice was still full of tears, so John grinned at him and grabbed at his neck, rubbing a little and also shaking him teasingly.

“You’re spoiling me. Lead me to the food.”

~

 

All day Rodney followed his Master around like a puppy and John kept turning to find himself the subject of total worship. It was extremely disconcerting, but he didn’t have the heart to shout at Rodney. The slave was clearly waiting for the charade to be over, for the MPs to turn up and drag him away. He kept looking over his shoulder as though they might appear by magic and John wondered what on earth the man had expected.

Had Rodney really expected to be whipped for being in the way? Had he expected John to take him back and ask for a replacement? It seemed that the answer to both questions was ‘yes’, and Rodney still thought that John might change his mind.

 

In the Lawyer’s office, where he went to change his will and sort out a few other legal issues to do with the apartment, his new slave and the Military, Rodney knelt at John’s side, as was strictly proper, but then he actually leaned his cheek on John’s thigh. Once again, John had never thought he would actually see such a thing outside a chick flick or a Boys’ Own adventure but he was even more startled to see that his own hand had automatically started threading through his slave’s hair. Rodney’s hair was short and brittle and John couldn’t help wondering what it would feel like if it were to grow longer… and perhaps be shampooed and conditioned…

It was hard for John hard to concentrate on the legal business when his slave kept distracting him.

 

~

 

Back at ‘home’, John decided that it was time to talk. He accepted the mug of coffee that Rodney brought him and then he pointed at the ground by his feet, grinning at the look of smug satisfaction on his slave’s face.

When Rodney was settled, with his cheek on John’s thigh and John’s hand in his hair, John pounced.

“Ok, why do you like this?” he asked in what he hoped was a casual tone.

“Master?” Rodney looked bewildered and he lifted his head, but John applied a little pressure to return Rodney to his place.

“The touching and the kneeling thing,” John expanded.

“Oh!” Rodney brushed his cheek a little, a bit like a cat showing affection. When he eventually spoke, his voice was quiet and he addressed his Master’s knee. “I… I don’t think I have ever been touched like this before.”

“You mean like a pet?” John clarified, but Rodney’s head snapped up.

“No! I mean as if you…”

“Go on,” John coaxed.

“As if you liked me, Master.” Rodney finished his sentence in the quiet, knee-addressing tone.

“I do.” John stroked his slave’s hair again.

“I don’t think anyone’s ever liked me like this before.”

“Except your family?” John pressed.

“Hell no! Especially not my family!” Rodney’s laugh was mirthless.

“Did you mother not comfort you, or cuddle you?”

“No Master, not after my sister was born. She avoided touching me if she could.”

“And… and your father?” John asked, dreading the answer.

“He called me his ‘Big Mistake’,” Rodney huffed. “He really hated me!”

John stroked Rodney’s head until he placed it back on his thigh.

“He’s not here, Rodney, and I am not him,” John told his slave firmly.

“Master?” John didn’t stop him, so Rodney carried on. “I… I want to thank you.”

“What for?”

“For the collar, for taking me on, for not punishing me, even though I deserve it… for not sending me back… for being… being so nice to me.”

 

Rodney’s hands had migrated and John realized that his slave was basically hugging his left leg. John slithered off the couch and gathered his slave up in his arms, feeling Rodney cling to him as if for his life.

 

The mood was broken by the horrible, tinny rendition of ‘Ring of Fire’ that John had set as his ringtone even on his official cell phone. In spite of his emotional state, Rodney was still able to summon a small, amused look of scorn. John clipped the back of his slave’s head, grinning, and reached for the phone.

“Sheppard!”

//Major Sheppard? This is Dr Weir.//

“Dr Weir!” John sat up straighter, pulling Rodney into his side and keeping his free arm around him. This was the first time he had spoken to his civilian boss. “How can I help you, Ma’am?”

//I have a couple of things I need to discuss with you. First, I want to check when you will be back in Colorado.//

“I report back to Colonel Sumner on Monday at 0900. I was booted out of Antarctica for a week.”

//Good. I will schedule a meeting with you at 10am. Should give you enough time to get settled. There is also a meeting at 1pm… 1300 with all the senior staff on the expedition. You are senior staff as you are the only Major going.//

“What? Seriously?” John frowned. That was not normal, especially not with the military presence being drawn from the Marines, they were a rigid bunch, far less likely to enjoy John’s style of leadership. In fact, John was a little relieved that he would be on the outside of Military issues, even if he was going as a ‘light switch’. He had been in trouble - oh so many times - for thinking outside the box and not saluting with quite the respectful smartness that most COs required.

//You will also need to meet with the four lieutenants who will be under you. I know that there will be some issues with an Air Force Officer commanding Marines, but I’m sure you can handle it, Major.//

John wondered how she could be so sure when she had never actually met her latest addition. How upset was she that he had been thrust on her? Would she treat him as senior staff, or would she just expect him to sit back and do whatever the scientists wanted?

“I’ll do my best, Ma’am,” he assured her, perhaps a little glibly. 

//After that, there will be training with some of the SG teams. I wish we had time to send you off world before we leave, but you’ll just have to catch up when we get there.//

…should they survive. No one really knew what they were heading towards. Rodney had told him what Dr Jackson believed - that the city would be under water and therefore there was a risk of drowning. On the other hand, the anthropologist was jealous as hell that people other than he were going, so perhaps there was some chance that they might live.

“I served in Afghanistan, Ma’am, so I’m not entirely green,” John felt obligated to remind her.

//I know that, Major, but off-world missions are quite different. I have never been off-world either and frankly, it terrifies me. I also wish to see you put your slave through his paces.//

“I… I… what?” John found himself spluttering at the abrupt change in topic. 

//You own Ego now, don’t you?//

“Um… Ego?”

//4921… the scientist slave.//

“You mean Rodney? Yes Ma’am, I do.” At this point, Rodney pushed himself up and away from his Master, allowing John to settle back on the sofa again. John vaguely registered that the slave was heading for the kitchen, but most of his concentration was on Dr Weir.

//Well. I want to see that he is trained properly. I have heard various reports about that particular slave…// She broke off and left John wondering what on earth she meant. //Anyway, I am checking all the slaves we are taking. They are all either in the Marine Custodian Corps, or else they are privately owned and I want to see that all the private ones are stable and trained. The mission will be dangerous enough without us having to worry about loose cannon.//

Dr Weir enumerated the specific things she would expect of Rodney and his obedience to his Master and then, with the promise that she would be in touch again, she rang off.

 

John wandered into the kitchen, where Rodney was pulling out ingredients for dinner, and watched until his slave spotted him and fell to his knees. John sighed.

“That was my boss,” John explained, motioning for Rodney to stand.

“Dr Weir has a strong reputation as a diplomat, Master,” Rodney commented carefully.

“Hm? Yeah, I gathered. She… um… she wants to see me… put you through your paces,” John told his slave apologetically.

“Yes Master,” Rodney responded calmly.

“You’re not bothered by that?” John asked in surprise.

“No Master, why should I be?” Seeing his Master’s confusion, Rodney explained, “She needs to know that I won’t run away and that I know how to behave.”

“And you’re OK with this?”

“I don’t have much choice!” Rodney spoke witheringly, but when he saw his Master’s brow crease again, he explained. “I’m a slave and so my default setting should be an overriding desire to run away. That’s why they always insist on training and the leash. I’ve been trained to serve as a Military slave, but now you need to train me to serve you.”

“I get the training thing, but Dr Weir told me what she expects you to do and… it’s pretty demeaning.”

Rodney approached his Master and then dropped to his knees in the pose that John had come to expect- head up, back straight, hands behind his back and eyes on John’s feet.

“Command me, Master and I’ll obey,” Rodney offered formally.

“After dinner,” John decided.

***

Rodney could really cook. It was a simple pasta dish with Bolognaise sauce, but John tucked in happily, after forcing Rodney to sit and eat with him. Rodney could even cope with the long loops of spaghetti and John watched enviously as his slave made it look so easy.

“All you have to do is just pick a few strands and then hold it against the edge of the plate so it doesn’t all fall off!” Rodney explained, and they spent a companionable twenty minutes trying to perfect the art and find a way of keeping the sauce on the fork too. John discovered spoons helped and both were laughing by the last mouthful.

“Master?”

“Hm?” John responded with a mouth full of ice cream.

“You do realize that in Atlantis I will have to behave… properly?”

“You mean…?” John’s nose scrunched in response to the thought of what ‘properly’ really meant.

“I will be in trouble if I don’t kneel at your side during meals,” Rodney explained.

“How? My CO in Afghanistan had a slave and she used to sit on the old Bastard’s knee to eat.”

“I’d probably squash you!” Rodney grinned and John decided he liked that grin.

“If I decide I want you sit with me then…”

“It doesn’t work like that! Um… Master,” Rodney snapped and then remembered who he was talking to. “It would cause offense… I mean, there would be people around who would despise you for allowing it and despise me… well, just despise me.”

“What else?” John asked cautiously.

“Master?”

“What else do I have to look forward to?”

“Keeping off furniture, me on a leash, me kneeling to you… normal stuff, Master,” Rodney elaborated with a shrug.

John nodded. He’d expected that.

“In our own quarters we can relax those rules though. What else?”

“I’m not sure, Master. If I… I mean… you don’t seem to…” Rodney was obviously trying hard not to be rude.

“I don’t know much about slaves. I agree. I wish I could keep it that way. I need to think.” John picked up a beer and went out to the living room to think, leaving Rodney to clear up. 

 

John had never really thought much about slavery. It just was. There was the official, government sanctioned propaganda that convinced the ordinary person to close their eyes to abuse. Slaves were either convicts who deserved all they got, or else debtors who had no other way to pay back their debts. Or they were born to the life and, apparently, it would be cruel to release them.

 

There were slaves all around in everyday situations and John realized that he really had never noticed them. Assistants in shops were often slaves, anyone who worked in industry, construction or anything manual was likely to be purchased labor and there were millions of slaves owned by the State who saw to services such as waste removal, cleaning of public buildings and streets, pest control, forestry… and so on. Some were skilled and some were not, but all were people who no longer owned themselves. Their bodies belonged to someone else and their situations and choices were decided by others.

 

There was even that stupid comedy show that seemed to follow John around as he travelled from country to country. The one with the slave who belonged to two households and the ‘hilarious’ situations he got into as his orders from his masters conflicted each other. Ye Gods! He’d even had to sit through episodes of it in Antarctica! Please let him be free of it in the Pegasus Galaxy! 

 

Now, for better or for worse, he had a slave of his own and he had no idea what to do with him. He’d taken him on impulse, seeing a need for the man to be rescued, but he had never realized that it would entail so much… emotion! The guy was almost a basket case, and yet there were glimpses of the real man under the training and the abuse that John found attractive.

He thought about the list of commands that Rodney had to be able to obey and wondered if they really needed to practise. The guy had two PhDs, for crying out loud! Surely he could respond to a few spoken commands!

“Rodney!” John shouted.

There was a clatter and then John’s slave was kneeling at his feet, looking up at him expectantly. 

“Do we need to rehearse commands? I mean, Dr Weir said something about watching you to see that you were properly trained for something…”

“It’s like Boot Camp, Master. You know how to march, but you’re supposed to do it properly. Dr Weir probably wants to see that you have trained me.”

“Ok… yeah, I get that,” John grinned. His slave had just cut through his troubled thoughts and found a quick and easy explanation that made sense. He really was a genius! John ruffled his slave’s hair, because he really seemed to like it, and then carried on.

“Ok, up!”

Rodney stood and positioned himself in a way that reminded John of ‘Parade Rest’. His shoulders were back and straight and his hands were clasped behind his back. His head was held high, but his eyes were lowered.

“Who taught you to do that?” John asked curiously.

“No one, Master. Am I doing it properly?”

“I dunno, what’s proper?” John wondered.

Rodney’s eyes actually rolled, making John grin. “You’re my Master, it’s up to you!”

The penny finally dropped. “You mean I have to tell you how to stand when I give you the command to stand? Why didn’t you say?”

“I thought you knew! I mean, I thought everyone knew…” Rodney fell to his knees again and apologized contritely. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”

“I’m not going to punish you for arguing with me in private!” John insisted, frustrated. “I might get pissed if you keep doing this though! Stand up!”

Rodney stood as he had before, only there was a slight stoop to his shoulders.

“Why are your eyes lowered?”

“I’m not allowed to look a freeman in the eyes, Master.” John was impressed by Rodney’s control over his tone. There wasn’t a hint of ‘you’re a moron!’ this time. 

“Kneel!”

Rodney knelt as he had before; knees apart, hands behind his back, head up, eyes down.

“Put your hands on your knees,” John ordered and Rodney did so. “That looks more comfortable. Fetch… fetch your leash.”

Rodney got up, bowed once and then went to fetch the leash, which he presented, on his knees, to his Master.

“No, I think we’ll skip the knees thing. Bring me things and then just stand to hand them to me.”

“Yes Master,” Rodney agreed, relieved.

“Take the leash back and put it away.”

Rodney took it, bowed again and then put the thing back on the counter where he’d found it. He then came back and stood to the side of the door, waiting, apparently trying to blend in with the cabin-style wall.

“What are you doing now?”

Rodney sighed, then explained. “You gave me an order, but you didn’t seem to have further orders for me, so I took up a position out of the way, but ready. It’s what I have to do in the labs if I’ve finished my task.”

“Ok… but you can be a bit more relaxed. It must strain your shoulders badly to hold them like that all the time,” John suggested.

“Yes Master.”

 

John then went to sit down. He knew that Rodney would know this one as he demonstrated it beautifully at the lawyer’s office, but it was on the list so it had to be practiced.

Rodney came over to John and knelt at his side, kneeling back on his feet and leaning into his Master’s legs. From there it was easy for John to pull Rodney’s head into his lap and run his hands through his slave’s hair.

This was nice, John decided. They’d do the rest tomorrow.

 

“Wake up!” John tapped Rodney on the shoulder. “It’s a perfect morning for surfing!”

Rodney groaned and dragged himself into the land of the living. It was hard. He was lying on a mattress made of two sleeping bags with a pillow under his head and a blanket wrapped around himself, lying at the foot of his Master’s bed again and it was bliss. He hadn’t felt this comfy in years and he was reluctant to leave it… especially for…

“Surfing, Master? Seriously?”

“Yeah! The waves are perfect and the beach is deserted!” The Major beamed,

Rodney sat up and took in the sight before him. 

Major John Sheppard was wearing nothing but a pair of loud swim shorts, aviator-style sunglasses and flipflops and Rodney’s reaction was instant. Now he just had to hide it! That gorgeous body with its broad shoulders, a smattering of hair across the chest, perfect and muscled legs and tight stomach was topped by a beautiful and strong face and that shock of not-quite-regulation hair and it was all rather overwhelming this early in the morning.

“Come on! It’s not that stupid a suggestion!” His Master rolled his eyes.

“Um..?” Rodney couldn’t quite manage anything more coherent. His brain was off-line… out to lunch… away with the fairies…

“Up!” John ordered laughing. “Then we’ll go and buy breakfast.”

“I don’t… Master?” Rodney made it to his feet and tried not to stumble.

“What?”

“I don’t have a bathing costume.”

“You can wear a pair of boxers. There’s no one on the beach.”

“I’ve never… I don’t know how…”

“You’ve never been surfing?“ his Master finally understood what his slave was trying to tell him. “What never?”

“Never, Master.”

“Where have you been all your life?” the Major demanded, laughing. “I’ll show you! It’s really cool!”

“I don’t… please, Master… I don’t…” Rodney felt stirrings of panic setting in now. 

“You can use my training board.” His Master suddenly halted and asked. “You can swim, can’t you?” 

“I can, but… I…” Rodney could think of only one thing to do, so he went to his knees. “Please, Master, I don’t… I don’t think I can… I…”

“Hey!” Immediately Rodney’s Master’s hand was on his shoulder, patting and comforting. “I didn’t mean to distress you. I just thought it might be fun, that’s all!” 

 

Rodney hoped desperately that his Master wasn’t too disappointed. He had obviously hoped for a companion to surf with, someone to enthuse over the waves with, but Rodney couldn’t help but be terrified by the very idea.

“May I w…watch you, Master?” Rodney stammered and his Master grinned.

“Yeah! As long as you promise to tell me how cool and macho I looked afterwards!” he teased. “Come on! Bring a book or something. And towels. We’ll need towels.”

 

In the end John went on ahead, while Rodney gathered together towels, a book and some water. He also took his Master’s clothes and wallet, feeling ridiculously proud to be allowed to bear such responsibility. There was no point wearing the leash, as he was only going to sit outside the apartment block and there probably wouldn’t be anyone around to cause trouble. If no one saw him, then no one could berate him for being alone without being tethered in any way, so he found a patch of sand in the shade under a palm tree, hidden from the main paths, and settled in.

His Master was truly magnificent, Rodney decided. The Asimov novel he had picked from the tiny collection in the bedroom lay by his side, totally forgotten, as he watched his Master balance on the narrow board, using the forces of the waves to carry him back towards the beach. Although he knew nothing of the sport, it was fairly clear that the waves were good, but not brilliant. Rodney had seen footage of surfing where the idiots on their flimsy fiberglass were able to slide through tunnels in the waves, but these waves were nowhere near high enough for antics like that. Still, the Major managed to ride the waves like they obeyed his every wish and he rarely fell… well, not very often anyway.

Rodney figured that his Master had gotten thirsty and tired as he paddled back towards the apartment block and walked up to where Rodney sitting on a towel cross-legged, in the shade, watching and not even reading. The Major grinned and shook his hair, making droplets of seawater splat all over his slave.

“You were very cool and macho, Master,” Rodney grinned at the Major, who laughed out loud, leaning down to ruffle his slave’s hair.

“I wish we could stay here,” his Master commented, wistfully as he dried himself off and reached for the bottle of water. “Things are far less complicated here.”

 

Rodney agreed in a way, but he also longed to be back in a lab. This beach thing was nice for a while, especially this early in the morning when there was no one around, bar a few people walking dogs or jogging, but he worried about sunstroke and sunburn, he was sure that he was being attacked by sand flies and mosquitoes and if his Master had finished surfing and showing off his body, then it was, frankly, boring. Even the allure of reading a novel for pleasure for the first time in years wasn’t enough to entice him to stay voluntarily.

 

“You mentioned breakfast, Master?” Rodney suggested, timidly and his Master tugged his t-shirt down and chuckled.

“I did. Let me change and we’ll go back to Harry’s!” The Major picked up his towel and held it out to Rodney. “Hold this around me.”

Rodney awkwardly held the beach towel around John as John shimmied out of his suit and put on boxers and shorts. As much as Rodney wanted to look down at the lean body so close to him, he kept his eyes firmly on the horizon. 

"Done," the Major announced. "Ready?" Rodney could only swallow, nod and fold the towel to put into bag.

 

After breakfast, eaten at the table like a free man again, Rodney waited for his Master to tell him his plans, but the Major seemed content to just sit here and watch the world go by. It made Rodney nervous. He had never had free time before, always chasing experiments, watching simulations or coming up with brilliant new plans and ideas, and this inactivity was difficult for him. He wished he had paper and a pencil or something…

“Master?” 

John had just raised his refilled coffee cup to his mouth, and his slave’s sudden request made him jerk and spill coffee all over his t-shirt.

“God dammit!” John shouted, leaping to his feet as the hot coffee soaked through to his skin. “That hurts!”

“Major? Major? Are you ok?” Harry himself was asking as Betty, the waitress, patted John down with paper napkins and generally fussed over him.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine!” John reassured them. “Not scalded or anything, just a bit shocked.”

“What shall I do with him?” Harry asked and John registered that Harry was gripping Rodney’s collar tightly, keeping the slave on his knees at his Master’s feet.

 

Rodney himself was wringing his hands and repeating how sorry he was, his face turning that interesting puce color again. He desperately wanted to go and check that his Master was unharmed, that his perfect skin wasn’t blemished in any way, but he was being held down in his proper place and he could only wait for his doom to be pronounced.

 

“It was an accident,” John smiled through the discomfort of the coffee-soaked shirt cooling on his skin.

“That’s true, Major, but you know you gotta show ‘em who’s boss, especially when they’re new,” Harry opined.

“Rodney knows who’s boss, Harry,” John replied, slightly coolly.

“He’s right!” A customer pitched in, gesturing at the girl who cowered at his feet. “I’d never let Ida here get away with clumsiness like that.”

“If you are lenient now, he’ll walk all over you later,” a gray-haired woman a couple of tables away sniffed. “My son had to sell a boy two weeks ago because he was getting out of hand. He caught him actually helping himself to food from the fridge!”

“Rodney is my slave and I shall punish him at home, in private!” John cut into the discussion. “Rodney? Up and follow me closely. Don’t drop anything and don’t say a word until we get home.”

 

Rodney had to wait for Harry to release him before he could gather up their possessions and head for home. All the way back he kept his head down and walked closely behind his Master, his overactive brain conjuring up evermore dire punishments and then arguing that his Master was not that cross and that he had shown mercy before.

 

In the apartment, Rodney put the bags down on the floor beside the door and knelt with his forehead to the floor.

“I’m not angry, Rodney. Get up! You startled me and I jerked my coffee. These things happen, but… I’m not sure how such an incident would be viewed in Colorado.” John’s voice was stern and serious and he waited until Rodney was kneeling up again before carrying on. “You tell me, Rodney. How would any other Master deal with you?”

It was perhaps unfair to throw this back at Rodney, but John felt lost. He was good at commanding his soldiers and he could take the lead easily and quickly in an emergency situation, but this was different. This was new territory, with rules that he didn’t know and he needed guidance.

“I think that most Masters would have had me beaten,” Rodney told his Master’s feet.

“What? Whipped? For a simple mistake?” John asked, incredulously.

“Yes, Master, or hit a few times with a stick or a crop. They would at least have slapped me.” Suddenly the slave turned his blue eyes full on John and John saw admiration, hope and worship in them. “But not you! You… you said it was a mistake…”

John knelt down and pulled Rodney into his arms. He wondered, as Rodney clung to him, how many times Rodney had been punished for clumsiness or accidents. Then he wondered how hard the man had been punished.

 

“Rodney?” He pulled back and decided that it was time for orders. Rodney needed the security of knowing that John was in charge, so he put on his best Officer’s voice. “Go and run the shower… it needs a few minutes to heat up, then strip and wait for me.”

John was watching his slave’s expressive face. It showed the fear that John was expecting, but also there was a touch of excitement there. He had to reassure him quickly and he stroked the slave’s cheek. 

“And Rodney? I promised that I wouldn’t use you sexually. I mean that. I won’t use you – we’re just washing.” Was that disappointment? John sort of hoped it was.

 

John gave his slave five minutes, then he went to join him.

 

The shower was running and there were clean towels waiting but the main draw in the room was the completely naked man, kneeling with his eyes lowered, head held high, hands resting comfortably on his knees. John was surprised by the wave of lust that crashed through him.

 

Rodney was thin, but not painfully so. His ribs could be seen and his shoulders looked too broad in comparison, but his face was nicely round with a strong chin and a sweet nose. His hips were wide and there was a hint of softness around the stomach that proved that the man was malnourished rather than fit and toned. Then there was the nice, long, straight dick, pointing proudly upwards to attention. John grinned.

 

“Up and help me out of these clothes,” John commanded and stood proudly.

 

This was something Rodney could do. He had had to undress someone many nights since becoming a slave, mostly as a prelude to unwanted sex, but this time he was going to reveal that precious body beneath the t-shirt and shorts, and he was looking forward to it. He had no idea what his Master meant when he said that he wouldn’t ‘use’ him, but he was hoping that it meant good sex without the terrible fumbling and the pain. Maybe with preparation beforehand and some stretching instead of the ‘in and hump’ method he was used to.

 

Licking his lips, Rodney stepped forward and reverently slipped his hands under the bright, coffee-stained t-shirt, pulling it outwards and slipping it over his Master’s head. He put the t-shirt to one side and then knelt and tackled the shorts. They were quickly removed and placed on top of the t-shirt. The boxers were slipped down next and the glorious body was revealed, complete with erect cock and that nest of curls around it.

 

His Master was hairy, with dark, wiry hair across his chest and down his arms and legs, but that just made him look more manly. Rodney followed the hair with his eyes and spotted a bracelet on his Master’s right wrist, so he bent to remove it, but his own wrist was suddenly gripped and he stopped.

“I don’t take it off,” his Master explained softly and without anger. “Now, into the shower with you.”

Rodney was pushed gently towards the shower stall. It wasn’t huge, but there was just about room for both of them and his Master seemed happy enough with the heat of the water. Rodney had expected to be pushed against the wall and he had even brought his hands up to brace himself, but, instead, his Master picked up the shampoo and squirted some into his hands. He then reached up and started washing his slave’s hair.

 

Of all things he had expected, this was probably bottom of the list. Rodney had to stop himself from gaping and staring for fear of soap getting in his eyes and mouth, so he had to submit and it was heavenly. He had really enjoyed the head ruffling, but this was much deeper and there was something almost primal about it. His Master was taking care of him and it made him want to cry.

 

When the soap was rinsed out, John reached for the conditioner and started rubbing that into his slave’s head. He worked gently and massaged carefully, wanting this to be a good experience for the slave, then he stepped back and looked at Rodney’s blissful expression.

“You need to leave that in there for a few minutes before rinsing it out,” John spoke softly.

“Can… May…?” Rodney’s eyes popped open

“Yes, whatever it is, then yes!”

“May I do yours, Master?”

“Yes!” John laughed. “I was hoping you would. I love having my hair washed for me. Go for it!”

Eagerly, Rodney tipped shampoo into his hands and then, finally, he got to play with his Master’s hair. It was thick and soft and he massaged the Major’s scalp, feeling the bumps and curves and knowing that it was making his Master shiver.

 

After rinsing and then adding the conditioner, they switched places, then Rodney took a cloth and began soaping it up. Checking with his Master, who nodded, he began the delightful task of exploring the beautiful body. He followed the contours of the chest in front of him, discovering that it really was as firm and toned as it looked. The hair was thick enough for him to run his fingers through it and he delighted in adding soap and then taking it away. The nipples poked out of the swirling hair, pink and inviting and his Master chuckled when Rodney washed them carefully.

 

He went down to his Master’s legs and washed them with as much care and then those thin, strong feet and long toes. The Major nearly toppled over as he chuckled at Rodney’s antics, but Rodney was leaving the best till last.

 

Kneeling up, he found himself looking at that magnificent, erect penis, surrounded by dark, wiry curls and sitting on top of the heavy sacks underneath. Rodney reached for more shower gel and then, tenderly, he caressed the velvety skin on the underneath of the cock in front of him.  
His Master shivered violently and the penis bobbed in excitement, so Rodney pressed a little harder and started rubbing gently with the gel. It had an instant effect on his own excitement, but that wasn’t important. He was being given a chance to explore and be gentle, something he hadn’t experienced in a very long time, and he was enjoying it immensely.

Previously, this had been a chore to be endured. Rodney had, on occasion, been forced to clean his own blood off the man he was serving, while still limping and moving stiffly from the abuse. This time, however, was about nothing but pleasure and he hummed happily. 

Rodney had to press harder when he heard his Master gasp and felt him react, leaning against the shower wall and shuddering. He pressed harder, rubbing and squeezing, then he fondled the balls underneath, waiting for the command to use his mouth.

Suddenly he desired to just take it, kiss it, love it and his own dick became painful in its hardness and he pressed instinctively in the little spot that had always done it for him, just below the hood, hoping that it would be as pleasurable for his Master, and suddenly the stall filled with the primal cry of a man really enjoying himself. Rodney’s Master bellowed as he came, in jets that mingled with the torrent of water still flowing around them, and just that was enough to make Rodney come himself.

Rodney sat back on his heels and caught his breath. He had just experienced the single most erotic moment of his life and yet there had been no actual sex! No one had hurt him or forced him, he hadn’t had to mentally steel himself against pain and he was relaxed, boneless, sated and thoroughly happy.

And very wet.

And covered in other liquid that wasn’t water. Rodney licked the back of his hand, just for a taste, glancing up to his Master's face, smiling when his Master’s eyes dilated at the act and his own tongue poked out of his lips.

While Rodney cleaned himself off by ducking his head under the spray again, his Master slipped down the wall of the shower to sit on the floor in a boneless puddle and they both had energy only to gaze at each other and grin stupidly.

In the end, it was John who reached up and turned the water off.

“That,” he announced breathlessly, “was the best shower I have ever had!”

For just a short moment, they exchanged glances, then they both folded in laughter, happy, content… just like equals.

 

After recovering and shivering a little, John got up and held out a hand to his slave, who grasped it and allowed himself to be hauled up. John turned his slave around by the shoulders as a prelude to pushing him out of the stall, but halted, gasping.

“Shit! Rodney!”

“Master?” Rodney asked, anxiously over his shoulder.

“What happened?” John demanded in a shocked tone.

“What? Where?” The slave tried to inspect his own back and ended up being twisted back into place and marched out into the bathroom, where his Master pushed him into position, so he could see his slave’s back properly.

“Your back,” John sighed.

He knew that he shouldn’t really be surprised, after all the man in front of him was a slave and slaves were often punished severely, but Rodney’s back was a mess of scars. He had been whipped to the bone several times –older scars crossed over with newer ones.

“When were you last whipped?” John asked, his voice serious and concerned.

“I don’t really remember,” Rodney admitted quietly with lowered gaze. “It was a while ago. I… I gave up after that.”

“Gave up?”

“I gave up fighting, Master,” Rodney stated calmly.

“Go on,” John insisted.

“I kept trying to be a physicist, Master. I kept trying to be intelligent and useful and… and I interfered with experiments and told people where they were going wrong. I was used to being loathed and hated, but people respected my genius. But slaves aren’t allowed to have opinions… even when they are correct.”

“Oh, Rodney,” John commiserated. “So you gave up?”

“I stopped interfering, Master,” Suddenly the slave swiveled around to face his Master and he shone desperate eyes at the John’s own concerned hazel ones. “I swear… I learned to behave and to keep my opinions to myself! I can behave, Master! I really can!” 

“I believe you, Rodney, I’m just appalled that you had to repress yourself like that.” John touched the scars lightly, which made Rodney shiver. 

“With me, when we are in private, you are allowed to have as many opinions as you want, but remember how to behave when you are with free people. Be respectful.”

“I tried that!” Rodney spat, then he quickly looked back up to gage his Master’s expression and, evidently reassured, hurried on. “I tried to point out mistakes in a quiet and respectful manner, but… well…”

“Go on, Rodney.”

“I am quite arrogant and… I kind of pissed people off when I was free… most of the scientists who knew me before think I got my comeuppance and they won’t listen to me, however respectful and polite I am.”

John sighed again in mild frustration. “I can’t change anything, Rodney. I can’t make anyone listen to your opinion or let you work with them.”

“Dr Zelenka lets me work with him. I think he may be chosen as the new leader of the Science Division for the expedition.”

“We’ll know on Monday. For now, I want to find some clean clothes to wear and then we should hit the stores.”

“Stores, Master?” the slave asked, surprised.

“Yeah, shops. We’re going to need supplies to take with us to the Pegasus Galaxy.” 

 

Three hours later, Rodney was tired of being pulled around by his leash, carrying bags of chocolate and DVDs that he wasn’t allowed to eat or watch now, being jostled by free people who didn’t like him being ‘in their way’. He had enjoyed looking around the Video store, in spite of the overwhelming feeling that the world had passed him by in the past few years. He’d had no idea that there was a third Spiderman film or that they had made a new Superman movie. However, he had been able to please his Master greatly when he had informed him that he had a very good compression algorithm he’d worked on and that he’d be able to fit all their purchases onto a couple of flash drives.

His Master had told him to think about all the things they could stash away in the small nooks and crannies of their luggage.

“It may be a different galaxy,” he told his slave, “but I’ve been on foreign missions before and the Black Market will be up and running before they’ve got the living quarters sorted out.”

So they had coffee beans, chocolate bars, popcorn kernels, shampoo, hair products and liquor (“You want to get the most alcohol into the smallest space,” John gave the benefit of his experience again) and even a few comics. Rodney had been encouraged to choose a few novels, while John picked out War and Peace, because it was really long. It was all well beyond ‘One personal item’, but his Master assured him that there were always ways of getting these things smuggled out.

 

It was all a new experience for Rodney, but, frankly, it was hell on earth! Not only was he burnt to a crisp from the morning in the sun – there was a whole patch on his left arm that hurt with a sharp pain every time it caught his sleeve and Rodney knew that that would be the patch where his skin cancer would manifest first – but he was also tired, hot and bothered. It was probably sun-stroke. Every time his Master moved in an unexpected direction, the leash was tugged and he nearly tripped.  
A small child suddenly ran towards the toyshop to Rodney’s left, causing its mother to dash after it. Of course Rodney couldn’t move back fast enough and, as it was, he jerked so hard that his Master’s wrist was pulled, causing an ‘OW!’ from the Major.

The mother tripped and nearly landed on the child and the whole thing was very undignified and resulted in the Major letting go of the leash so that he could aid the woman. The child was bawling its head off and about to run, so Rodney dashed over and picked him up.

“Hey! Hey! It’s OK… look, Mommy’s fine… Look…” The child buried his head in his savior’s shoulder and sniffled as Rodney took the child over to his mother. 

“I’m really sorry,” John apologized as he helped the lady up. “I’m not used to crowds like this. Is your child alright?”

The mother grabbed her son from the slave’s arms and Rodney tumbled to his knees to await judgment.

“Yes, he’ll be fine, but you should keep your slave under control or leave him at home!”

“It really wasn’t his fault, Ma’am, but I shall punish him.” John looked solemn.

“Oh!” The mother picked her child up and then blushed. “No… really, you shouldn’t… please don’t hurt him on our account. My little Mickey just believes that every trip to the Mall means a trip to the toyshop… I should keep a better grip on him… you… you won’t hurt him, will you?”

John bestowed his biggest smile on the lady. “No, Ma’am, I won’t hurt him. We’ll just practice a bit better. Thank you Ma’am.”

 

John exchanged glances with his slave and then announced.

“Bar!”

Once they were settled in a booth, with Rodney seated opposite his Master, John launched straight in.

“It won’t be like that on Atlantis!”

“Will I be on the leash all the time, Master?” Rodney asked nervously.

“No! Do you need to be lead around from place to place, or will you be allowed to get yourself to labs and the food hall?”

“I… I don’t know,” Rodney admitted. “I’ve always been on the leash before. They used to come and call my number and I’d be taken wherever I needed to be.”

“You were treated like a prisoner,” his Master said angrily.

“Yes Master, a convicted slave. That’s what I am… only now… there are different rules when you are privately owned. My Master can send me wherever he wishes… I think.” Not knowing the rules made Rodney nervous.

 

At this point the barmaid appeared. She was obviously a slave, but there was no leash attached to her collar.

“Where do you live?” John asked her.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Sorry, I mean, do you live here at the bar, or do you have a home to go to?” John asked her pleasantly.

“I have a room upstairs, sir. Now, do you want a drink?” the woman repeated her question impatiently.

“Maisie!” A stern voice suddenly called and the girl flinched, as though shocked.

She blushed, rubbed her neck and then lowered her eyes.

“Please forgive my rudeness, sir. I have a room here, sir.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get you into trouble. I’ll have a beer and Rodney’ll have a coke.”

“Master?” Rodney hissed urgently.

“Yes Rodney?”

“I… I’m allergic to citrus, Master,” Rodney reminded his Master, embarrassed.

“Yes… is there citrus in coke?”

“Citric acid and lemon juice, Master.

“What would you like instead?”

“M… may I have… coffee, please?” Rodney asked, unsure if this was permitted now he was privately owned.

John grinned. “He’ll have a coffee. Thanks.”

 

When the maid had gone, John resumed his musings.

“Would she have been led home on a leash?”

“Or in a van, Master. In the lab, Dr Zelenka always allowed me to roam freely. He always said that he could always just grab the leash and attach it to something if he thought it necessary.”

“I like Dr Zelenka,” John decided. “So, do you think you’ll be allowed to roam free? I mean, I can’t be taking you around everywhere!”

“I believe that’s up to you, Master. I should think that you’ll be allowed to do as you please.”

John contemplated his slave’s face and attitude and then chucked him under the chin.

“Hey! What’s up? You look miserable.” Rodney’s face showed alarm at this, but John insisted. “Tell me!”

“My arm hurts, my nose is going to peel, I’m thirsty and I hate shops, Master,” Rodney whined.

“Why does your arm hurt?”

“I’m sunburned!” Rodney showed him the patch of reddened skin.

John laughed. “You’re miserable because your arm is stinging a little? I thought you were in the shade this morning.”

“I thought so too,” Rodney answered morosely. “Apparently not all of me was. That’s why I don’t do… never used to do beaches when I was free… um… Master.”

“You should’ve gone in the water!” John told him unsympathetically, accepting his beer and nudging the coffee over to his slave.

“You don’t know what’s in the sea! It’s full of pollution and all kinds of deadly creatures! I’m not going near it!” Rodney protested, then clearly remembered that he was in public. “Oh crap!” he sighed and slid to kneel. It meant that he was partially under the table, but he had to show how contrite he was. 

“Get up, Rodney,” John commanded, sighing. “I’ll punish you at home. Now drink your coffee and we’ll get going.”

 

They practiced some more and discovered that the best way to cope with the leash was to make sure that Rodney followed his Master quite closely. It meant that Rodney couldn’t waste time looking around at the contents of the shops, but it also ensured that he didn’t get in anyone’s way. 

Whenever John stopped for more than a few seconds (Rodney counted five as a rule), Rodney would kneel close to his Master’s legs and, once or twice, he even dared to lean his head against his Master’s thighs.

It was strange, Rodney reflected as they headed home in the hire car, that there were times when just blindly obeying and being directed by the tug of a leash, was actually quite relaxing. Once he gave up and ceased trying to fight and think, Rodney had often experienced a time when he could just disappear into his own thoughts. He could turn his brain off and forget his moans and pains and just settle into a blankness. 

It was nothing like the blankness of tuning out the pain and desperately thinking of Math and Physics while trying to disassociate himself from his terrible life. This was a comfort and an ease that he had never known, even when he was free and it made him wonder at himself. Was he really the kind of person who needed to stop and rest sometimes? He had always been so busy and full of ideas, and as a result, switching off and not even letting his thoughts take over was weird, but pleasant.

 

They spent some time practicing non-verbal commands before Rodney went off to cook again and, once again, Rodney discovered that there was liberation in the trust he had for his Master and in blind obedience. His Master was pleased, but he reminded his slave that he had to punish him for speaking out again in public.

 

“I have to punish you properly this time, Rodney,” John announced when the food was eaten and cleared away and his slave was kneeling before him, waiting.

“Yes Master.”

“Open your mouth,” John commanded and then he slipped a handkerchief into his slave’s mouth. He then took a bandage and, cutting off a strip, tied it around Rodney’s head forming a simple gag. “I know you can easily undo this, but you will not. I will take it off when I am ready.” John then picked up Rodney’s leash from the coffee table and attached it himself. “If I place this on you, then it will not come off until I remove it. This time it is not your choice, but mine. Now, come here.”

John tugged on the leash and Rodney was led to the sofa, where John sat and made the signal for Rodney to kneel at his side. Once Rodney was kneeling, John pulled at his slave’s head until it was resting on his knee, then he grinned.

“Now, the punishment is that I’m going to make you watch this football game and I’m going to explain to you why it’s such an important game. You see it’s a perfect example of a Hail Mary…”

Rodney took a good hard look at himself in the bathroom mirror.

It was the first time in a very long time that he had actually taken the time to do such a thing, usually preferring to just ignore the image and pretend it wasn’t there. His Master was out surfing again and Rodney had promised to be there by nine o’clock to help his Master to carry his things back and to provide a changing tent again for him. Until then he was free to do as he pleased, and it pleased him to look at himself in the mirror.

 

He wasn’t surprised to see that his hair had thinned a little and receded a little since he had last looked. Bad diet and lack of proper sleep and care would do that kind of thing. He was lucky he hadn’t lost any teeth or turned completely gray. His face was not as gaunt has he had imagined it would be. It was thin and angular, but not washed out or sagging. There was even some pink in his cheeks and his eyes were shiny and blue. He could do with a hair cut again… maybe he could even make his hair… stick up a little instead of that flat, geeky style he had going at the moment. He ran his fingers through the curly ends and realized that his hair felt much softer than it had for a long while.

 

His eyes then dipped down to the collar at his neck. He was astonished to find that the sight of the gold links actually made him smile! It was as if he were actually happy that the thing was attached to him and that he had no way of removing it. His hand moved automatically up to the links and he suddenly realized that he had been fondling the little disk that held his Master’s name and contact details as a natural gesture. He thought back and decided that he had first done it as they left the store together and that it was a comforting thing to do. He even thought that he might have woken up that morning with his fingers grasping the little disk.  
His torso was much the same as it had always been. His shoulders were broad and round and there was a sparse amount of pale hair on his chest. His stomach was soft and his waist wasn’t narrow as such, but he remembered a time when he had begun to put on weight and develop the soft, flabby body of the average Geek. 

 

After that he was into leg and foot territory, nothing much to look at down there, and his own private parts that he was pretty used to by now. So he returned his attention to his face and, most particularly, to his eyes.

 

The main thing about his eyes was how clear and bright they seemed and there was something different about them. They weren’t any more blue than they had ever been, although maybe they were slightly less bloodshot – he hadn’t had to put all-nighters in front of computer screens for a while now, so that had to be a good thing. They weren’t any bigger or smaller, but there was definitely something strange about them.

 

It took at least ten minutes of contemplation to realize that… that he was happy and that what he could see in his eyes was the hitherto unknown expression of actual content in them.

 

Ok… Ok… reality check! Rodney stepped back in surprise and made himself think. He was still a slave and he always would be. He was still at risk and there was every possibility… even probability that his Master would tire of him and just give him back, trade him in for someone better, but for now he belonged to a Master – his Master.

 

So, Rodney had spent last evening gagged and forced to watch a college football match without even being able to complain about it, but if that was what the Major considered a punishment… well, it had been a punishment and Rodney would do a fair bit to avoid having to go through it again! Who would have thought that it would be possible to walk away from a punishment feeling chastised and yet not in pain? Yes, indeed, Rodney had plenty to be happy about in this new stage of his life.

 

The food was great, the work was ridiculously easy, he hadn’t been sexually assaulted (unfortunately… and whoa! Where did that thought come from?), showers were amazing and he had the comfiest bed he had enjoyed in five years…

 

Oh God! What if here were to lose it all now? What if, having enjoyed a taste of heaven, he was taken back to hell? He would never survive. 

 

Rodney turned away from the anguished face in the mirror and forced himself to calm down. Clothes. He needed clothes and… and his Master’s towel… and his watch and his sunglasses… and that black band he wore over the bracelet… and his t-shirt and shorts and shoes…   
A glance at the clock told him he had a quarter of an hour before he had to go, so he decided to whisk up some batter for French-style crêpes which he would serve with fried eggs, mushrooms and Canadian bacon for breakfast.

 

Rodney’s Master ate heartily and complimented Rodney on the breakfast, but there was something a little… odd about the Major’s mood and it set all of Rodney’s alarm bells ringing. As usual, he had no idea whatsoever why his Master might be annoyed with him… unless he was still angry over that ‘speaking out’ thing. But then his Master hadn’t been really angry as such – just keen for Rodney to remember the rules for his own safety.

 

Accordingly, Rodney served quietly and efficiently, cleaning up as carefully as possible and doing his best to keep noise to a minimum. His Master then headed off to shower, making it very clear that this time he would be showering alone!

 

When the kitchen and bathroom were both spotless and his Master settled in front of a Star Trek marathon, Rodney was at a loss. The Major hadn’t said anything, but he hadn’t really looked at his slave either, other than at times when he said thank you.

 

Rodney had to find out whether he was in disgrace or not, so he waited until there was an ad break and then brought a cup of coffee over, placing it carefully on the low table and kneeling.  
For a moment, nothing happened. Rodney knelt and waited, watching his Master carefully through the lashes of his lowered eyes. Then suddenly the hazel eyes attached themselves to Rodney’s face and Rodney tried to read the expression behind them.

 

“Master?” Rodney asked worried, hoping he’d be told how to correct whatever mistake he’d made.

“Thanks for the coffee,” his Master said and then deliberately turned his head back to view the adverts on the screen.

“Master?” Rodney tried again.

Once again there was a short pause before his Master reacted, then he sighed and turned to give his attention to his slave.

“Yes Rodney?”

“Have I… offended you, Master?”

“Offended me?” the Major sounded surprised. “What are you talking about?”

“Have I done something wrong?”

“No!” his Master protested. “No! Why? Do you think you… what do you think you’ve done?”

“I don’t know, Master. I just… you… I’m sorry… I’m interrupting…” The show started up again and Rodney began to scramble to his feet, but his Master halted him.

“Rodney! Stay where you are!” He accompanied the order with the pointy-finger hand signal they had agreed on, so Rodney knelt back down again and lowered his eyes.

 

John reached for the remote and turned the program off. It was only Star Trek and this was more important. It had been bothering him all night and even surfing hadn’t distracted him, but he had hoped that he could avoid the discussion for a while. Now Rodney was upset and that was the last thing John wanted. He ran his hand through his hair a few times and sat back, wondering where to start.

“Rodney… I need to apologize.”

“Apologize, Master? What for?” Rodney gasped.

“For… for breaking my promise.” John couldn’t look down at the scientist at his feet, knowing that the lightening fast brain had probably worked it out by now.

“Promise?” 

…or maybe not. John sighed and acknowledged that he would just have to bring up the ugly subject himself. He couldn’t help sighing again.

“I promised not to use you… sexually… I broke that promise, and I’m sorry,” John spat out.

 

Rodney’s intake of breath was distinctly audible. His Master was apparently apologizing for something that, for Rodney, had been one of the most amazing experiences of his life.

“Master… no! No! I… it was wonderful! Please… you didn’t use me! You didn’t! You… you gave me… it was a gift, Master!” Rodney babbled.

His Master was looking at him again, but this time it was with an expression of bewilderment.  
“You’re not angry?” he asked, baffled.

“No! No Master! It was… seriously… unless… “ Rodney’s face fell and his eyes lowered, but then he looked back up and this time his chin stuck out and his expression was almost accusing. “You said it was the best shower ever! You liked it too, Master! You said so!”

“Oh thank God!” his Master grinned, relief all over his face. “I was afraid I’d traumatized you or something. You really didn’t mind?”

“Mind?” Rodney almost screeched, “It was fantastic! I want to do it again! Um… Master…” He added a little sheepishly and fought a losing battle with a blush that stole across his face.  
“I’m up for that!” the Major grinned. “But, Rodney,” he added with a note of caution in his voice. “We’ll go slowly and at my pace. I want to make it good for you and… we won’t rush into things, OK?”

“You’re the Master,” Rodney spoke earnestly. “I’ll do anything you tell me to… anything at all.”

“Do you like classic Trek?”

“Of course, Master!” Rodney managed to avoid saying ‘duh!’.

“Up here then!” his Master patted the sofa next to him and opened his arms, so that Rodney could join him.

 

Rodney hesitated a moment. Was he seriously being asked to snuggle? With his Master? 

Apparently the answer was ‘yes’, so he cautiously climbed onto the sofa and was manhandled into a position where his head was resting on his Master’s knee. The Major pulled him up and secured him with his arm and then he reached for the remote.

“It’s always more fun when there’s someone to watch it with you,” John opined. “Comment all you like!”

Rodney sighed and wondered if this was what heaven was like. His Master’s thigh was solid, but comfortable and he had a perfect view of the screen. The arm pinning him in place was rubbing gently in a soothing motion and he had free rein to speak out… yes! This was definitely heaven.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What goes up must come down... they have to go back to work.
> 
> A large chunk of this chapter was actually written by my Goddess47 - 'cos she's so much better at going up to 11 than me!

Over the next few days the two men packed and re-packed all the items that they would be taking with them. John gazed longingly at his guitar a few times but it was clear that there was no way he was going to be able to take it.

 

Rodney spent hours compressing all the films and series he could to fit onto two flash drives, including that damned ‘Hail Mary’ tape that his Master said was ‘essential’. Rodney had opined that it was simply so that he could have an effective punishment for his poor slave and his Master had agreed that that was an added bonus.

 

John did as much surfing as he could, but he didn’t force Rodney out with him again. Rodney had explained how afraid he was of sunburn and skin cancer and John had laughed, but allowed it, insisting only that the slave come and fetch him when he needed to leave the water and change.

 

Neither had they repeated the shower experience. John allowed Rodney to be there to dry him and even to rub lotion into his shoulders, but he hadn’t invited Rodney into the shower with him again, to Rodney’s great disappointment.

 

Apart from a trip out to pick up the finalized documents from the Lawyer and a couple of short food shopping excursions, they didn’t need to leave the apartment again until the moment when they loaded their packs into the car and headed back to the airport. John sighed with regret at leaving the beach and the comfort of home, but he had to report back to work on Monday morning and they would need Sunday evening to fetch equipment and settle back into Military Quarters.

 

The flight back was uneventful. Once again Rodney had a seat to himself and was served the same meals as his Master. His Master seemed more nervous this time, but he said that it was because he hated being flown, especially by commercial pilots who didn’t understand real flying.

 

Denver International was heaving with people this time and Rodney was glad he had thought to wear his leash. He walked very closely behind his Master and made sure that there were no more incidents with children. A Marine Sergeant was waiting for them and he accompanied them to a rather civilian-looking Dodge, forcing Rodney to climb into the trunk with the luggage. When his Master complained about this, the Sergeant just shrugged and claimed that it was ‘orders, Sir’.

 

Rodney had really enjoyed his vacation. In fact he couldn’t remember the last time he had enjoyed his downtime, but he was still happy to be back in the familiar surroundings of a Military and Scientific base. He felt odd walking around after his Master in jeans, but no one looked at him and he just followed all the way to the Commissary, where they collected their new uniforms and kit.

 

Rodney was to be dressed in Science colors, apparently. His jacket was beige with blue panels and his pants were a matching shade of beige, while underneath there was a series of t-shirts with long and short sleeves in blue. He rather envied his Master’s dark gray uniform, but this was what he was given and anything was better than that awful orange.

 

The worst part of it was the nationality patch.

“It’s American!” he protested as it was handed to him. The patch was made up of a small American flag and the embroidered words ‘Maj. J Sheppard’ and was to be worn on his left sleeve when on base.

“Of course!” the Sergeant doling out the clothes answered snippily. “You belong to an American.”

“But I’m Canadian!”

“Not any more. Now get out of here before I report you!” the Sergeant dismissed him.

 

Rodney was surprised at how sad he felt at being re-categorized out of his own nationality. It hadn’t been a problem before as he had belonged to the International Committee and they didn’t acknowledge that any slave had a nationality. Now, however, Rodney found himself fingering the little patch and imagining what it would have looked like had it been the Maple Leaf flag of any other Canadian. There wouldn’t have been any writing on the thing either.

“It’s not all that bad being American!” his Master teased as they unpacked and changed. “Some of the best people are Yanks!”

“It’s not really that that’s bothering me, Master,” Rodney tried to explain. “It’s just… it’s just one more thing that they’ve taken away from me.”

They went to eat in the Mess where Rodney surprised his Master by kneeling at his side.

“It’s not allowed, Master,” Rodney explained patiently when his Master invited him to sit on a chair. “The Military are real sticklers for protocol and the Scientists just love it.”

“I’ll have to commandeer a cushion or something,” his Master huffed. “It must be killing your knees.”

 

Rodney just beamed at his Master and accepted the plate of food that he himself had been allowed to choose. His life now was much better than before the Major took him on, but little things like being able to actually choose what he wanted to eat, just made him want to bow to the ground and do something embarrassing like kiss his Master’s boots. He refrained from any such gesture, which he suspected would embarrass the Major and the last thing he wanted to do was make his savior uncomfortable, and began to eat.

 

John took Rodney back to the room they were to share and then left in search of something for Rodney to sleep on that wasn’t just plain floor. While he was gone, they had a visitor.

 

“Carson!” Rodney yelled enthusiastically and was swept up into a hug by his dear friend.

“Bloody hell, Rodney! Is that a tan?” Carson asked peering at the slave and inspecting him thoroughly.

“I got dragged to the beach!” Rodney grinned, pulling the doctor into the little room and pushing him down onto the chair. “You’ll need to check my skin where I got burned.”

“I’m sure it’s fine!” Carson’s dimples showed. “What’s he like? Has he treated you well?”

“Oh God, yes! He treats me so well I’m getting spoiled! Look at this!” Rodney pointed at the classic-looking collar. “It’s real gold!”

“I’m glad,” Carson beamed.

“And he let me cook for him, and watch TV and he’s off now looking for something for me to sleep on!” Rodney enthused, even though he suspected he sounded like a fourteen year old girl. “I’ve got clothes and movies to watch and real shampoo!”

“Did he punish you?” Carson asked, brow furrowing.

“No! Well, he did, but he didn’t hurt me. He made me wear a gag and sit through a whole goddamned American football match, but he didn’t beat me or anything.”

Carson couldn’t help laughing at the image, which made Rodney laugh in return, and that was how John found them.

 

It took John a few moments to work out that the surge of heat that ran through him was not anger, so much as jealousy. He wanted to be the one to make Rodney laugh like that, but he forced himself to think rationally and to allow that Carson Beckett had known his slave much longer and knew much more about Rodney’s unique character. Beckett’s next words helped.

“Major!” Carson beamed, standing up and holding his hand out. “Rodney was tellin’ me about your punishments!”

John smiled back and shook the doctor’s hand. “I don’t like inflicting pain unless I have to. Rodney didn’t really do anything terribly wrong, but he keeps speaking out in public.”

“Och, well, that’s Rodney. He’s never been one to keep silent. Ye both look well.”

“We are well. Rodney’s been a welcome companion.”

“Aye, well, he can be very entertaining at times… times when he’s not the most irritating human on the planet.”

“I’m still here you know!” Rodney protested and Carson glanced worriedly at the Major, who just grinned and ruffled Rodney’s hair.

“Beer? Before it becomes Black Market currency?” John offered.

“No, thank you Major. I have to get back to the Infirmary. SG4 are due back in the next half hour and you never know what they’ve got up to. I just wanted to check up on you. Good night!” Carson hugged Rodney briefly and shook John's hand on his way out.

 

“He’s a good friend,” John opined when the door shut behind the doctor.

“Yes Master, the best. He was the only person who spoke up for me at my trial and the only person who treats me like a human being… except you, Master.” John was blinded by the steady blue gaze that was directed at him and powered by deep emotions such as pride, joy and devotion. The jealousy he had felt earlier was washed away by his slave’s loyalty and he found himself grinning back and pulling his slave into a hug.

“You are a human being, Rodney, and a very precious one too,” John heard himself say. 

 

The best that John had been able to find for Rodney’s bed was a sponge mat that would normally have been used out in the field. Rodney was happy enough as anything was better than hard floor, and anyway, he had a pillow and a blanket. They both slept easily and John woke first in the morning and got up ready for his jog.

***

Rodney helped his Master into his clothes after his post-jog shower and then held out the leash.  
“Do you really think that’s necessary?” his Master asked with distaste, even though he took the end.

“I do,” Rodney told him with a shrug. “The staff here don’t know who I am or who I belong to.”

“You’ve got my name on your arm,” the Major reminded him.

“Yes, but they don’t know if you’re the kind of Master who allows me to roam freely or not. There will be some here from Antarctica too, and they’re used to seeing me being dragged everywhere. It’s… it’s safer for me,” he added shyly, embarrassed to be inconveniencing his Master.

“You’re the expert, Rodney. You said I could get some kind of pass?”

“Yes Master, but I’ve no idea where from,” Rodney shrugged again.

“Well, breakfast first, then we’ll worry about that kind of thing. We need to be in Colonel Sumner’s office by 0900.”

 

“Oh my God! Is that you McKay?” A strident American voice shouted out and John felt Rodney shift a little closer into his Master’s legs.

“Who’s McKay?” John asked suspiciously. “And who are you?”

An Atlantis Expedition scientist stood before them, grinning, but there was something off about the expression, John decided. The dark haired man looked… gleeful.

“Your slave… he was once ‘The Great Dr Rodney McKay’! Look at him now!” the scientist laughed.

“I suggest that you move along and get your own breakfast before they run out,” John managed to dial down the aggressive tone that was fighting to get out. The scientist looked suitably cowed and moved along quickly, but John could see that he was already laughing about the incident with his friends in the queue.

John checked on Rodney, who seemed to be eating fairly happily.

“Who was the jerk?” John asked quietly so that only Rodney could hear.

“Dr Brendan Gall. Thinks he’s God’s gift to Physics even though I proved him wrong on so many occasions. He’s just a jerk, Master.”

“Do you… get that a lot?” John asked carefully.

“Yeah,” Rodney was clearly aiming for a casual, nonchalant tone. “I… I was a great Physicist and a genius… I still am, but back then I was able to tell people what I thought of them and their work. I was Ga… Dr Gall’s boss back at Area 51 and… well, my management style didn’t please some people… well, no one liked it really. I just tell people the truth. People have always told me the truth about myself and my work and I just believe in being honest. A lot of people think that I deserved this for my personality alone.” Rodney pointed at his collar. His uniform was designed to make sure that the collar was clearly displayed, presumably to reinforce his status, or lack thereof.

John ruffled his slave’s hair. “You can tell me if anyone makes your life difficult. I can’t guarantee that I can do anything about it, but I can listen at least.”

Rodney smiled up at him and finished his breakfast. John was amused by his slave’s healthy and enthusiastic appetite and was pleased to see the clean plate. He took the plate, placed it on the tray with his own dirty crockery and then handed the whole thing to his slave to be cleaned away.

He stared around at the full Mess while he waited, but then was distracted by a crash and angry shouts. Joining everyone else who was gathered, he was dismayed to see that it was his own Rodney who was scrabbling to pick up the broken dishes while everyone, in the line and gathered around, watched and laughed.

A quick survey told him that he was the highest ranking officer here, so he stepped forward and asked, in his best Officer’s voice.

“What’s going on here?”

“Just a clumsy slave,” a scientist with a ridiculously scraggy dark ponytail sniggered.

“And manners don’t apply to slaves?” John challenged. “In my book, if someone trips, then manners demand that you help the fallen person. Good people don’t just stand around and laugh.”

John quickly bent down and picked up some stray bits of bowl, then he pulled at Rodney’s elbow and managed to guide him to his knees. For some reason Rodney refused to stand.

“You ok?”

“Yes, thank you Master. I was just clumsy and I tripped over someone’s foot.”

“You’re the lousiest liar I’ve ever met,” John whispered to his slave, taking in the red face, the shifty eyes and the hint of anger in the humble words. The Major then turned to two Airmen and pointed. “Airmen are gentlemen and show all the other Military grunts how it’s done!”

The Airmen exchanged amused glances and then bent to pick up the last of the debris, while John pulled Rodney to his feet. John handed the tray to one of the Airmen.

“If you could, Boys, I need to report to the Chief Marine five minutes ago,” John grinned.

“No problem, Sir,” one of the ‘Boys’ gave a tiny wave instead of a salute and the other had already disappeared. “Do you need directions?”

John nodded his thanks, "I could find it eventually but you'd be doing me a good deed if you'd show me the fastest route." 

He grasped Rodney’s leash. They had a Colonel to meet and John was pretty sure that punctuality was essential. In less than four minutes he needed to be smart and ready in front of the only man he would have to call ‘Sir’ on the expedition and his track record in impressing COs was… less than stellar. He swallowed, gripped the leash tightly and followed the Airman to his doom. 

 

Colonel Sumner didn’t rise when John and Rodney entered his office only a minute late, although he did look pointedly at the clock.

John snapped an impressive salute – if he was going to be stuck in a different galaxy with the man, there was no point giving him extra reasons for being loathed. Rodney went to his knees, back straight, eyes lowered and hands held clasped behind his back. They had agreed that this would be the respectful way to greet John’s superiors.

“Major John Sheppard,” the Marine Colonel snarled and John’s heart sank. The man hated him already and he hadn’t even spoken.

“Yes Sir,” John barked, horribly aware that he sounded a little like an actor playing ‘Marine#1’. Things were far more relaxed in the Air Force.

The Colonel looked hard and tough and he regarded his second in command with a curl of his lip. He would expect John to fail, to be a pathetic flyboy instead of the seasoned soldier he was, and John longed to burst out with a list of ‘tough’ things he had done. He didn’t, though. He stood at attention and waited for his commander to speak.

Sumner had a file open in front of him and he perused it disdainfully in silence while John waited. Finally, when he had evidently decided that his XO was intimidated enough, he looked up and spoke.

“You will obey every one of my commands, Major.”

“Yes Sir,” John replied rather more naturally. He was used to this speech, even when it came from the brash tone of a rugged New Yorker. Most of his COs had been refined gentlemen up till now – men who often knew his family name and thought it significant. 

“I don’t like the fact that you have been thrust on me, Major, and I would never have chosen you for this post. Your genetic code makes you necessary for our mission, and that means that I have to leave behind a good man, a soldier who would never sabotage the chain of command.”

“I’m sorry for that, sir,” John responded, wishing the man would order him to be ‘at ease’. His back just wasn’t used to this stiff position.

“Not as sorry as I am, Major.” John also wished he’d stop using his rank like a dirty word, but he managed not to sigh. “I will not tolerate any trouble from you any more than from any of my men. Do I make myself clear, Major?”

“Crystal, sir.”

There was a short pause, then the Colonel shifted in his chair and muttered, “At ease.”

“Thank you, sir.” John shifted into the very slightly more comfortable position and thanked his lucky stars he hadn’t joined the Marines.

“What’s that?”

John had to follow his CO’s nod to realize that he was referring to Rodney.

“Rodney is my slave, sir.”

“Why is he wearing science colors?” Colonel Sumner demanded.

“He’s a scientist, sir. I have given my permission for him to work in the science division given his expertise with Ancient tech,” John explained patiently.

“He should be in Military uniform if he’s yours, Major,” Sumner frowned.

“I’m sorry, sir, I presume that the orders came direct from Dr Weir, sir, since that was the uniform waiting for us.” John concentrated on the middle of the Colonel’s forehead and waited for the reaction. Would it be seen as rebellion?

“I didn’t approve when they announced that it would be a Civilian led mission. Civilians have no place in the field and should never be allowed to lead expeditions like this,” Sumner bit out.

John desperately wanted to challenge the man on this, asking him what he thought they were going to , whether he was aware that the whole point of the mission was scientific research, whether he was bothered by the fact that his boss was a woman. He didn’t. He remained calm and professional staring straight ahead with a face as blank as he could keep it.

“I will assign you your specific duties when we get to Atlantis,” the Colonel went on. “Mostly it’ll be paperwork and organization, but we may get you off-world on occasion. I will not expect you to discipline my men as they won’t respect you, an Air Force Officer, the way they do me. If any Marine has a problem with you, as a Birdman, then come to me.”

“I’m sure the Webfoots will come around to me, sir,” John replied before he could stop himself. The derogatory nickname had just flipped to his lips, bypassing his brain, when he had heard the word the other Military braches used for the Airforce. He wondered briefly if there were any Marine officers who would share a beer with him and laugh at the ‘Ducks’ – the Navy, or the ‘Flatfoots’ – the Army, but the light tug on his pant leg from his slave reminded him that he’d just insulted his new CO.

“You do have balls then, Major,” the Colonel said in a voice devoid of amusement. He stood up. “Don’t get under my feet and do as you’re Goddamned told and we’ll get on.” 

“Yes sir,” John said again, reflecting that he’d probably used up this month’s quota of ‘yes sir ’s already.

“Take your slave to see Dr Zelenka and see if he can use him,” Sumner ordered briskly.

“Dr Zelekna, sir?”

“He’s been appointed as Chief Scientist… the Goddamned Commie,” the Colonel ranted.

“Commie, sir?”

“He’s a Czech, of all things! One of the enemy, and yet I’m supposed to protect him and his motley crew of liabilities on legs. Get out Major!”

“Yes sir,” John came briefly to attention, threw a hasty salute and snapped his fingers to get Rodney to his feet, so they could make a fast exit.

 

Out in the corridor, well away from his CO’s office, John stopped and kicked the wall, letting loose a string of swear words, then stormed off with Rodney trotting after him, trying to keep up and avoid being strangled.

“Master!” Rodney cried out, puffing, as they reached one of the training rooms and John finally stopped and turned to see his frightened slave fall to his knees. 

John closed the door and then quickly crouched down in front of Rodney and patted him on the shoulder.

“Sorry, Rodney… I just… I blew it! Every time I meet a new CO I do the same. I throw in some cocky comment and they look at me like I’m slime! I didn’t… I didn’t mean to scare you,” John apologized ruefully.

“It was his fault, Master!” Rodney cried as he caught his breath.

“What?”

“It was his fault! He started it! He treated you like dirt the moment you went in there! It wasn’t your fault, Master!” Rodney explained indignantly.

John looked at Rodney’s earnest face and found himself smiling.

“You know… you’re right.”

“He called you a Birdman first!”

“Yeah, we’re flyboys and proud of it!” John chuckled, his anger at himself abating in the face of his slave’s loyalty. 

He sat down next to Rodney, dropping the leash and using that hand to rub his own mop of wild hair up and down. “I disobeyed a direct order to not go after a friend in Afghanistan,” he told his slave bluntly. “He and his whole crew were dead when I arrived. I got a black mark and the posting to the ass-end of the world and that will follow me everywhere I go. I wasn’t exactly squeaky clean before that, but I got by. I never leave a man or woman behind and as long as there was even a thought that Holland might be alive… I’ve lost friends before and been unable to save them and… and it haunts me, but COs seem to think that I should have just obeyed and left them there. I have a reputation for disobeying orders and ignoring the chain of command.”

“I belong to an honorable man, Master.” John turned to look directly at his slave, whose blue eyes were radiating admiration and approval.

“Really?”

“I’m not a soldier, Master, but if I were and I was stranded out in some battlefield somewhere… I’d be very glad that you existed… just to know that you’d come for me… or what ever was left of me,” Rodney stated firmly.

“You’re one of my men now, Rodney. I won’t leave you behind either.” John ruffled his slave’s head and Rodney bowed.

“Thank you Master. No one’s ever promised me anything like that before.”

John patted his slave’s head one more time and then stood up, grasping the leash end and offering his other hand. Rodney accepted the help and was hauled to his feet.

“We need to deliver you to the science labs. At least your friend, Dr Zelenka is in charge.”

“He’s a good physicist… nearly as good as me,” Rodney grinned.

John looked at the smiling face of his slave and the last vestiges of his anger dissipated. Rodney was so easily pleased and rendered happy and it made him grin in return.

***

 

The labs were not dissimilar to other labs that John had seen before, except that this one was mostly filled with laptop computers and very large whiteboards covered in Math and diagrams that John couldn’t even begin to decipher. There were men and women flying around, typing rapidly, arguing with wild gestures or hiding away clutching coffee mugs and they were all wearing beige versions of his own uniform, but with blue science panels.

The chief Geek was obvious by the fact that his computer was on the desk in the middle and he was at the epicenter of all that was going on. That and the fact that there was a tall, familiar-looking, pony-tailed scientist shouting at him.

“Zelenka! Zelenka! Don’t you ignore me, Zelenka! I can get you thrown off this project!” 

John was impressed by the way the short man with the wild hair was completely ignoring the existence of the scientist… the one who had tripped Rodney up that morning.

“You? Who are you?”

Suddenly there was a finger jabbing in the direction of John’s face and he looked down into the eyes of the harried Chief Geek… who looked right past him and shouted.

“Rodney McKay! Díky bohu! Go correct those equations on that board – the morons need you! Go!”

Rodney grinned and looked at his Master for permission. John undid the leash.

“Go and play, but don’t break the toys!” he chuckled.

“Yes Master!” Rodney threw over his shoulder as he marched over to the board and snatched a board eraser and pen.

“Dr Zelenka, I presume,” John smiled at the scientist and was pleased to see an answering smile in return.

“Who are you?” Dr Zelenka repeated with a curious tone in his voice.

“I’m Major John Sheppard… I’m afraid I…er… own Rodney now.” John felt a little sheepish as he explained.

“Yes… Dr Weir explained to me. Come with me to my office please?” The small man indicated a door in a large glass wall and John nodded to show that he agreed to follow. Zelenka merely paused to address the pony-tailed guy. “Kavanaugh… go and do some work before I take your name from the list of staff for Atlantis. Go!” He didn’t wait to see if Kavanaugh obeyed. 

As they closed the office door, Kavanaugh was launching into another rant, mostly about the people he knew in ‘high places’, but they ignored it and John accepted a chair.

“Dr Weir said that you agreed that McKay could work for me,” Zelenka said and it wasn’t quite a question.

“That is correct,” John answered. “I came to see what restrictions you would expect to be put on him and to see what you would do with him.”

“You care about your slave, Major?”

“Yes,” John answered, surprising himself. “Yes, I do.”

“Rodney McKay is a genius and has one of the greatest scientific minds of his generation… but it is better not to say this in his hearing!” The scientist grinned and adjusted his glasses. “I am relieved that he is able to come with us as I believe that his expertise will save many lives, but he comes as a slave. If he had not been a slave, I believe that he would have held my job.”

“He’s really that good?” John asked, intrigued.

“He is. He made one mistake and he has paid for that over and over again. I met him in Russia where he was exiled after his trial, and his story was well known. I saw him being…” Zelenka looked away in embarrassment and fiddled with a strange-looking paperweight from his desk. “I saw him being used by some guards and I put a stop to it. He then came to work for me, until he was recalled to the US. I was happy to work with him again in Antarctica, but he had become a different man by then.”

“That’s more information than anyone else has given me!” John exclaimed, fascinated. “How different? I’ve heard that he was arrogant and rude, but it’s hard to imagine.”

“He was the most obnoxious man in the universe… he was like Kavanaugh… he would tell everyone how wrong they were, try to do everyone else’s jobs, ride… er… rough shod…” he stumbled over the colloquial expression, but John nodded for him to go on. “Rough shod over everyone and claimed never to be wrong. The difference between Kavanaugh and McKay is that McKay is usually, genuinely right. He really can do everyone’s jobs. It is very annoying!”

John had already decided to like the little Czech before meeting him, but now he liked him a lot.

“I don’t want to have to keep Rodney on a leash all the time. Everyone knows, or will know, that he is mine and he is wearing the uniform of the science department, so surely he can be trusted to go where he is supposed to go and do as he is supposed to do, can’t he?” John asked.

“For sure!” Zelenka agreed. “He was chained in Russia for some of the time as a punishment, but I do not wish to do this. If he needs to be punished I shall call for you, Major.”

“Good. He’s mine!” John stated firmly. 

***

“Dr McKay?” a timid voice spoke behind Rodney and he turned and bowed a little.

“I’m just Rodney now, Ma’am.” He found himself looking at a familiar-looking Asian woman… he thought she was Japanese… who bowed and peered at him through enormous and unflattering glasses.

“You were a wonderful boss, Dr McKay, and you pushed me so far when I worked for you. I have never done such good work.” The little Scientist bowed again and Rodney dipped his eyes, trying not to remember how it felt to be respected.

“I don’t think many would agree with you, Ma’am,” he managed. “But I thank you for your kind words.”

The Japanese woman bowed again and then left him at his board of moronic idiocy, but as he turned he spotted Kavanaugh staring at him, his eyes even more beady and malicious than usual. Even Rodney knew that it would be stupid to say anything, or even acknowledge anything, so he just lowered his eyes and turned back to making some sense of the rubbish on the board.

“Are you sure that you should be doing that?” A tall blond woman was the next to appear by Rodney’s side.

“Yes Ma’am,” Rodney sighed, wondering how he was supposed to do his best work when people kept asking him such stupid questions. It was bad enough when he had been the boss and he had had to field stupid grade-school level questions about Physics, but these were just garden-variety stupid questions. “Dr Zelenka sent me here to correct the mistakes on this board.”

“You are a slave. How can you correct the mistakes of qualified Physicists?” It was such a shame that such a beautiful woman was also such an ass.

“I had two PhDs when I was free, Ma’am and I… I used to run the Physics department at Area 51,” Rodney told her sadly.

“Don’t be ridiculous! Leave that board alone and do something useful!” The Scientist snapped. “I need someone to watch this simulation.”

“I can do both if you wish, Ma’am,” Rodney offered, “but both Dr Zelenka and my Master commanded me to work at this board.”

“What is your Master’s name?” she demanded.

Rodney showed his American flag and replied. “Major Sheppard, Ma’am. He’s in there now with Dr Zelenka. I… I’m not lying… I really was once a proper Physicist… a genius.”

“Well, this is rubbish!” the woman gestured at the board. “You can’t describe vacuum energy like that!”

“This is the converter for the power module that will take us to Atlantis, Ma’am. It has to be calibrated right or else it could fail and we’d all be trapped!” Rodney rebutted.

“Yes, but this is daft! You’re describing a drawing of energy from exotic particles in the casing! And this…”

“Naquadah has some of the most exotic particles in existence!” Rodney joked feebly. “This equation shows the strange, yet tested reaction of naquadah when used in conjunction with vacuum energy.”

“How do you know a formula like that? Only top level Astrophysicists have access to secrets like that!”

“I wrote it, Ma’am,” Rodney answered forlornly.

“It was written by Dr Rodney McKay, one of the top Physicists in this generation.” There was a thread of bewilderment in her voice.

“I like to think so,” Rodney couldn’t help smiling at the compliment. “Unfortunately I made a big mistake and here I am now… just a slave.”

“You are Rodney McKay?” the woman asked incredulously. “He was Canadian!” She pointed at his flag.

“But his Master is American,” Rodney turned to look at Dr Zelenka and his Master who had come to join him at his board. “Rodney, are you having trouble?”

“No Sir, just a discussion,” Rodney replied, embarrassed.

“Dr Simpson, Rodney will be working with you on your casing for the vacuum energy power module…” Zelenka introduced them.

“The ZedPM!” Rodney suddenly threw in and they both looked at him questioningly.

“Zero Point Module! It’s what I called the power module…I… sorry, sir.” Rodney tailed off as he realized his presumption.

“Rodney will work with you on the… ZPM, Dr Simpson. Listen to him as he knows more about it than you.” Zelenka’s tone was firm.

“You mean he really is…?” Simpson asked and Zelenka nodded, grinning.

“Dr Rodney McKay. Work with him and learn.”

 

It soon became clear that Simpson was actually not as stupid as she had seemed from the equations on the board. They had been sabotaged and Rodney was pretty sure who was responsible, only he didn’t have the power to do anything about it, except to undo the damage.

In fact, it was only when he was in the depths of a decent argument about his own equation that Kavanaugh finally made his move.

“You will cease this now,” Kavanaugh commanded and stood with folded arms until Rodney and Simpson turned to look.

“I beg your pardon?” Simpson asked. “Don’t you have your own projects to see to?”

“I do, but I can’t bear the thought of a lady having to deal with such terrible behavior as that shown by this slave.” Kavanaugh smiled at Simpson. “I shall call for the Marines to take him away.”

“No you won’t, Kavanaugh!” Simpson countered. “Dr McKay is working with me and we were having a reasonable discussion. Just because you can’t bear to have anyone disagree with you, doesn’t mean that the rest of us can’t cope with healthy discussion! The best advances are made through heated debate!”

“Arguing is acceptable between peers, but not between a free lady and a slave! Look!” Kavanaugh pulled at Rodney’s collar, nearly choking him.

“Hey!” Rodney protested, pulling away. “Let me go! The Major won’t be pleased if you damage me!”

“You should show some respect for your betters!” Kavanaugh rounded on Rodney and Rodney desperately wished he could retort with something along the lines of ‘oh, but I do! You’re just not one of them!’.

“Please forgive me, Sir,” was the best Rodney could manage. He just couldn’t get the right amount of subservience into his tone, not for Kavanaugh anyway. “But I was merely discussing this casing problem with Dr Simpson.”

“Don’t worry, Simpson, I’ll deal with him,” Kavanaugh grinned at the lady again, but she scowled back.

“Dr Zelenka asked him to work with me and I shall do any dealing myself, thank you!” Simpson stepped in front of Rodney and folded her own arms. “Go away!”

“I won’t forget this!” Kavanaugh hissed and then he was gone.

“I’m sorry, Ma’am,” Rodney said sadly to Dr Simpson as they turned back to their board. “Kavanaugh was always of the opinion that I got his job at Area 51 and he has attempted to undermine me ever since. When I was first enslaved… he made my life hell.”

“I’m sorry, Dr McKay, although I don’t think it’s all you. He’s been trying to get me to go out with him for a month or so now. I’ve stopped letting him down gently,” Simpson confided with a grin.

“It’s just Rodney now, Ma’am,” Rodney reminded her.

“Well… can you at least stop calling me ‘Ma’am’?”

Rodney smiled back. “Yes Doctor.”

***

“Rodney!”

Rodney was startled by the familiar voice of his Master breaking into the latest discussion and he whirled around and knelt.

“Master!” He looked up into his Master’s face and pleaded. “I wasn’t being rude, Master! We were… I mean, Dr Simpson asked me some questions and…”

“Hey! Hey! Hey!” John interrupted, grinning at Dr Simpson, who was pretty cute for a Scientist. “You’re not in trouble! Well, except you missed lunch. I kept expecting you to appear while I was eating, but you didn’t.”

“Lunch, Master?” Rodney asked, responding to his Master’s hand signal and getting to his feet. 

“Midday meal? What do they call it in Canada?” John asked mockingly.

“Lunch, but… but… was I supposed to… I didn’t know!” Rodney almost wailed. 

“I didn’t realize I was supposed to come and fetch you!”

“I’m not supposed to be wandering around on my own, Master,” Rodney explained with lowered eyes.

“I asked Zelenka to allow you the freedom of any other Scientist, so I assumed you could come to the Mess by yourself,” John elaborated.

“You must be Major Sheppard,” Simpson butted in. “I’m Claire Simpson and a great admirer of Dr McKay’s work. I… I don’t think that Rodney can just go by himself. Would it be acceptable if I were to accompany him in future?”

“Yeah, sure, Dr Simpson, that would be great, but I don’t want to put you out,” John smiled, relieved that Rodney had found another scientist he could work with. “Do you know where I can get one those passes from – you know, the ones that allow a slave to roam alone?”

“Dr Zelenka would be able to authorise that, I think, Major. Shall I see to it for you?” She smiled winningly at him and John responded automatically.

Rodney watched all of this and felt a little pang of envy. His Master was flirting like mad with the blonde Scientist and it brought home Rodney’s own status in a very clear way. Not only was he no longer in a position to flirt with the beautiful doctor, but also it was clear that while his Master could have any relationship he wanted with Rodney, he could also sleep with anyone else as well. He would never have exclusive rights to Major Sheppard… however much he might wish for them.  
***

 

The pass turned out to be a green disc that hung from the ring in Rodney’s collar. It proclaimed that he belonged in the Science Lab section and that he was allowed to enter the Living Quarters and the Mess unaccompanied. If he needed to go anywhere else, he would have to be leashed and led.

The first time Rodney ventured out on his own, however, he couldn’t help quaking and fingering the disc, showing it to anyone he passed, as though someone was about to stop him and take him for punishment. Actually, no one seemed interested in him at all and Dr Simpson pounced on him as soon as he appeared, dragging him over to the simulations and demanding his immediate input. With both of them working on it, the Mission would very soon have a workable convertor for the ZPM.

It was not all easy, though. Every day Rodney had to avoid Kavanaugh and his attempts to get Rodney moved away from anything technical. There was also the gauntlet of the Mess to run.

It was pot luck whether Rodney met his Master in the Mess or not. If he was lucky, then his Master would be there already, munching and waving at Rodney to join him. If he was unlucky then he would have to wait there for his Master to arrive – waiting like a lamb amongst wolves.

The worst occasion occurred on the third day since being awarded his pass – Rodney thought it was a Friday, but had lost count of the days again.

The prototype convertor had been delivered and was sitting in Zelenka’s office awaiting the arrival of the fabled ZPM, so Simpson had sent Rodney off, promising to send for him when they needed him. Rodney arrived at the Mess and stood to one side to await his Master, out of the way of the queue of diners, but in a position to see and been seen from the entrance.

Gall and his sidekick (Rodney thought the man’s name was Abraham… or Adams), entered and immediately caught sight of Rodney, who lowered his eyes and tried to look humble.

“What are you doing here?” Dr Gall demanded. It was a bit sad to see a short man trying to look down at a taller man, but Rodney kept that to himself.

“I’m waiting for my Master, Sir,” Rodney replied softly.

“You’re in the way,” Gall informed him, snidely.

Rodney couldn’t help looking around incredulously at the large gap between himself and the entrance. If anyone was obstructing things, then it was Gall and Adamson.

“I’m trying to…” Rodney began, but Gall slapped his cheek. It was a bit of a pathetic slap… girly and limp, but it was still a hit on the cheek.

“Don’t answer me back, Slave!” Gall scowled.

Rodney risked a quick glance at Abrahams, but saw the enjoyment on the man’s face.

“What? No witty come back?” Gall asked after a moment of silence from the slave. “No rant about how great you are and how wrong I am? No disparaging of my education? I’m disappointed!”

“Is that what you want, Sir?” Rodney asked, trying not to rise to the taunting.

“No, what I want is you, on your knees, begging me for forgiveness,” Gall sneered. “I want you to tell me how pathetic you are and that you are the one who is wrong.”

“I’m just waiting for my Master to arrive, Sir,” Rodney lowered his eyes and tried to diffuse things, but it wasn’t a skill he had ever really mastered and there was anger in his tone.

“Get down on your knees!” Gall demanded shrilly and suddenly there was a lull in conversation.

“You have been given an order by a freeman, Slave!” A new voice entered the fray and Rodney sighed when he saw that it was Kavanaugh.

There was only one thing Rodney could do and that was to obey. He slid to his knees and brought his hands around to the front as his Master had taught him.

“That is not correct!” Kavanaugh snarled. “Put those hands behind your back and pull back your shoulders. Now, what is the problem, Dr Gall?”

“This arrogant piece of shit thinks he’s better than me!” Gall told the taller Scientist indignantly.

“That sounds just like McKay!” Kavanaugh laughed and it was clear that he was playing to the gathering audience. “His arrogance is legendary! He has been refusing orders from me since joining Zelenka’s department and has even managed to worm his way onto the top project… as though he could have anything useful to add!”

“You mean the ZPM project?” Adams asked eagerly. “I tried to get Zelenka to assign me to that, but he refused!”

“Yeah, well Zelenka’s as stupid as this crappy slave!” Gall added, kicking Rodney on his thigh. “Well, I want to hear it tell everyone the truth about me and my abilities!” 

“That thing? You’d be lucky to get anything like a proper evaluation out of that!” Kavanaugh kicked Rodney’s other thigh. “Do you know, he told me that he thought I got my doctorate from a magazine? He insults my intelligence and treats me as though I have never read a Physics text book in my life!”

“That’s what he does to me too!” Gall enthused. “Well, he’s going to apologize now on his knees and in front of everyone here!” He leaned down and pulled Rodney’s chin up. “Go on! Tell them!”

Rodney remained silent. He was seething with fury. He had indeed said those things and he had meant them – he still agreed with those sentiments, but he had said them when he had been both men’s boss! These arrogant bullies were now picking on him because he was helpless, when all he really wanted to do was get up and lay into them, citing the many and varied mistakes and disasters they had both been the cause of. How many times had he saved labs and lives through pushing them out of the way and correcting their arrogant and stupid errors?

“Tell him, Slave!” Kavanaugh growled and the crowd around them began to murmur, but Rodney remained silent, his hands in tight fists.

“Is it true?” A Marine Sergeant stepped forward and addressed Dr Gall. “Did this slave really dare to say such rude things to you?”

Rodney looked at the Sergeant and his heart stuttered. If Sgt Bates was getting involved…

“Why would I lie?” Gall asked, apparently affronted.

“Would you like me to take him in hand, Doctor?” Bates asked formally.

“Take him in hand?” Abrams asked nervously and Rodney felt a vague stirring of hope.

“I’ll take him to the punishment room and have him whipped, Sir,” Bates told him firmly. “I’ve dealt with this particular slave before.”

“But… doesn’t he belong to some Major? I mean… isn’t he a privately owned slave now?” Abrams persisted.

“Major Sheppard’s an officer and his slave is subject to Military discipline.”

“Oh! Oh, right,” Adams stepped back and Rodney remembered that feeling hope was just stupid.

“I’m willing to forgive the slave, as long as he takes back his words and tells everyone the truth about my intelligence,” Gall offered, magnanimously and everyone looked back at Rodney.

Rodney could have broken and told them what they all wanted to hear. He could have lied and flattered the morons’ egos, but he had had enough of being humiliated. He would take the pain and the harsh treatment, but he would not lie. He never lied and he wasn’t going to start now.

“I said those things, Sergeant, but I was free and Dr Gall’s boss at the time. I meant them then because he had almost blown up the lab and killed us all. I have said nothing of the sort since that time,” Rodney gritted out, holding his hands against his thighs to keep them from shaking. But he was proud that he kept his voice even.

“Why you little runt!” Gall cried out in fury and kicked Rodney in the side again. “You rude and stupid Slave! You…!”

Bates held the short Scientist’s arm as he was about to swing a punch.

“You see, Sergeant? He needs to be whipped till his back is bloody!” Kavanaugh smirked.

“What the HELL is going on here?”

Rodney looked up for about a nanosecond, long enough to confirm that the new voice belonged to his Master, and he lowered his head to the floor. He was well and truly in the shit now.

 

John had been there long enough to hear Rodney’s angry voice and to see Gall’s reaction. He recognized the troublesome Scientist with the stupid pony-tail and then saw that the shorter guy was the jerk from the first morning’s breakfast. He had never been one to sort out disputes on immediate appearances, so he decided to intervene and work out what they were doing to his prostrate slave. 

The Sergeant was the first to speak, although Kavanaugh nearly beat him to it.

“The slave was rude to the Doctors, Sir. I was about to take him away for punishment,” Bates reported formally.

“Dr Kavanaugh? How was my slave rude to you?” John asked, stressing the fact that Rodney was ‘his’.

“He refuses to call me by my proper name and he argues with the staff,” Kavanaugh replied haughtily.

“Excuse me? You are berating my slave because he is obeying my orders? I told him to be useful and helpful to the staff of the Physics department. Has he been rude to you, specifically?” John demanded, holding onto his temper.

“Yes! Many times!” Kavanaugh answered with his chin in the air.

“How about since he became my slave?” John growled and was pleased when Kavanaugh stepped backwards.

“He refuses to call me by my name!” Kavanaugh repeated.

“Rodney?” Rodney lifted his head from the floor. “Have you been rude to Kavanaugh?”

“No Master,” Rodney whispered as defensively as he could.

“What about Doctors…” He looked at the other two, shorter scientists who supplied their names. “Gall and Abrams?”

“No Master,” Rodney replied again.

“Gentlemen, it seems to me that you are allowing previous prejudice to inform your actions. If you come to me with a specific complaint about my slave’s behaviour, then I shall happily meet out appropriate punishment. However, I will not allow him to be abused for your entertainment. He is a slave and he has no way of defending himself. Kindly behave with more courtesy.” John turned away from the spluttering scientists and faced Bates.

“Sergeant, Rodney belongs to me. You see that he wears my collar and my name and this means that I will decide if he merits punishment or not.”

“With all due respect, Sir, I am in charge of security for the Atlantis Mission. That means that I deal with disciplinary issues,” Bates replied heatedly. He was a Sergeant, but he had specific duties and sometimes that meant that his decisions outweighed even those of an officer.

John knew all about duties and the general pecking order, so he replied calmly.  
“You are correct, Sergeant and I will never stand in your way when you are dealing with such matters, however, it is not up to you to decide whether or not my slave… or any privately owned slave for that matter… should be punished or not. I will ask you to perform any public punishments that are deemed necessary by myself, Dr Zelenka, Colonel Sumner or Dr Weir, but you will not just punish. Even if any of the senior staff awards a punishment, you must always seek the permission of the slave’s owner before acting. Is that understood?”

“Yessir,” Bates snapped to attention and agreed, although it was clear that he did not like his orders. John anticipated a meeting with his CO in his immediate future, so he sighed and dismissed the Sergeant.

“Rodney,” he turned at last to his slave. “We will eat and then we will discuss what happened here and how I shall deal with it.” He made it sound as though he would be punishing his slave and the three scientists finally removed themselves from the scene, grumbling but apparently satisfied.

John pulled out the leash and attached it to Rodney’s collar. They then joined the queue for lunch and Rodney carried the trays over to a corner, kneeling by his Master’s side. 

“I’m sorry, Rodney,” John sighed and ruffled his slave’s hair, causing Rodney to look up at his Master in astonishment. “I wish I could be there all the time to save you from morons like that.”

“You… you believe me, Master?” Rodney asked, bewildered.

“Of course. I’ve seen the way Kavanaugh behaves and Zelenka told me about your feud, plus I’d already met Gaul… If they cause you trouble, tell me. I can’t always be on your side and if you are rude to them, then you’ll have to suffer the punishment… and, Rodney…” he waited until his slave was looking up at him, blue eyes fixed solemnly on his face. “I won’t tolerate rudeness.”

“Yes Master,” Rodney agreed with a bow.

Then John ruffled his hair again, and handed Rodney his plate.

“You’ll do your best, I know. Now, I have the afternoon more or less free of meetings. I’m going to radio Zelenka and tell him that you’re not going to be at work this afternoon. Let’s call it ‘extra training!’” John grinned naughtily at Rodney.

“T…training?” Rodney questioned warily.

John’s grin suddenly became shark-like. “Yeah!” he drawled. 

 

Training.

Throughout lunch, Rodney worried about this ‘training’ that he would have to endure. Up to now, training had involved he and his Master agreeing to certain signals and then practising them, before giving up in boredom and settling in to watch a DVD. This time, however, there had been that strange look on his Master’s face as he pronounced the word, and Rodney had no idea what that meant.

So he knelt and ate automatically, his leash still attached and the other end looped over the back of the Major’s chair.

Then Dr Weir arrived.

Rodney had seen Dr Weir in passing before and had heard all kinds of stories about her amazing prowess in the field of diplomacy, her enthusiasm for the Atlantis Mission and her determination to make sure that everything went her way… always. She seemed very ladylike in her bearing and she wore the ring of a member of the Nobility, so Rodney bowed low as she took a seat opposite his Master.

Dr Weir smiled at his Master and then asked if he would allow his slave to kneel up, at which his Master chuckled and said “Up!”, and Rodney found himself being scrutinized by the beautiful Lady.

“How can I help you, Ma’am?”

“Well, you can call me Elizabeth rather than ‘Ma’am’ for starters!” Dr Weir grinned. “I’ve never cared for that term of address – it makes me feel old.”

“I should probably call you ‘My Lady’,” his Master suggested, nodding at the Mission Leader’s ring.

“Given your own rank, I rather think not!” the Lady responded and Rodney tried not to show his surprise. His Master was a Noble? Seriously? He didn’t live like one… and yet he really did have the bearing and manners of a Senatorial brat. “How are you getting along with training your slave?”

“He’s too intelligent to need much training, but we are going to have a long session this afternoon. He has had a few problems with some Scientists and I have promised to deal with him,” John spoke seriously.

Dr Weir nodded, “That sounds excellent. I would like to see you put him through his paces… maybe tomorrow after the Senior Staff meeting?”

“If you deem it necessary, Elizabeth. Are we any closer to setting an actual date for leaving?” John asked in open curiosity.

“That’s what the meeting is about tomorrow!” Dr Weir’s smile became a wide and enthusiastic grin. “Dr Zelenka has the ZPM casing and convertor finished.” Rodney managed not to react to his work being credited to someone else – it happened a lot these days. “And Daniel Jackson-O’Neill has finally admitted that he has all the information available, so I am hoping that this is it and we can finally leave! I’ve been packed for two weeks now!”

The Major’s grin was not as wide as the Doctor’s, but he still sounded happy when he responded. “I really hate waiting around and going to endless meetings about nothing much. I may have to strangle someone if I have to listen to any more listings of equipment!”

“Speaking of which… I’m told you haven’t picked up your equipment pack for your slave. Colonel Sumner is checking up on you, so I’d suggest you do it this afternoon,” Dr Weir hinted.

“Thanks for the tip, Elizabeth. He… he doesn’t like me much,” the Major confided.

“I’m not sure that Colonel Sumner likes anyone who isn’t a Marine,” the Lady answered as reassuringly as she could. “He actually spoke out against my appointment on the grounds that I wasn’t experienced enough, but Sir Richard Woolsey accused him of trying to make the operation Military instead of Scientific and no more was said.”

“I’m surprised he was appointed as CO,” Rodney’s Master lowered his voice and Rodney found himself scouring the surrounding area to see if anyone was listening in, feeling very protective of his Master. “He seems a bit… inflexible.”

“He’s brave and tough and I think he was chosen because he is so Military-minded. He is a good counterbalance to my more diplomatic approach… but I agree and I hope that we will be able to work together without me having to pull rank too much.” Rodney wondered if that was a flicker of uncertainty on the Leader’s face, but he knew how terrible he was at reading people, so he didn’t mull on it.

There was a slight tug on Rodney’s leash and he realized that his Master had looped the end around his hand in preparation for leaving. Rodney wrapped the Muffin in a napkin and then stood up, taking the trays again while his Master took leave of the Lady.

Outside the Mess, the Major halted and faced his slave.

“I have a couple of errands to run, but you will go straight to our room and wait there. Get things ready for a shower and then loop the end of your leash around the chair and wait. Understood?”

“Yes Master,” Rodney replied, not looking up at his Master in case he saw anger there.

“We have some training to complete,” his Master continued in a much lower and more menacing voice and Rodney shivered.

***

This was it. Rodney knelt by the chair and waited, thoughts whirling around his head and making him feel dizzy with fear and anticipation. This was where his Master finally took him in hand and broke him. He had been waiting for the other shoe to drop and now it was poised and ready. Rodney knew that it would hurt and he knew that it would make him different and more obedient, but it would hurt doubly that the pain and humiliation would come from his beloved Master’s hands.

His Master had treated him so far with such kindness and gentleness that Rodney knew that he was at least half in love with the man who owned him. It had been decades since some slave psychologist had announced that Stockholm Syndrome applied to abused slaves as well as kidnap victims and Rodney thought that he probably qualified, but it didn’t change the way he felt about his owner.

Not that it mattered. Being in love with your Master just meant that you would serve him better. It didn’t mean that there was any obligation on the Master’s part to reciprocate, or even like his slave. The Major could punish and abuse at will, or reward and spoil if he wished and Rodney would take it and be grateful.

The only time his Master had touched him in any way that was sexual had been that occasion in the shower that still brought Rodney out in goosebumps when he remembered it. It had been wonderful and sublime and he wanted more experiences like that, but his Master had called this coming session ‘Training’ and that would involve pain and humiliation and…

The door opened and his Master entered, carrying a small duffle bag, which he threw on the bed. Rodney shivered on recognizing that particular style of bag, but bowed his head to the floor in greeting. His Master turned and looked at him, drawing in a breath that sounded startled.

“Up!” his Master commanded and Rodney knelt up, not daring to look at his Master’s face.

Suddenly his Master’s face was all he could look at. The Major lifted his chin and made him look up to see that he was crouched down at his slave’s level.

“Rodney? You’re not in trouble. None of that scene with those Scientists was your fault and I am not going to punish you,” the Major explained patiently.

Rodney just gaped at his Master and wondered how he could possibly have escaped retribution.

“There are people in the world who delight in picking on those who are helpless and those three fall into that category. I made them think that I would be dealing with you so they would go away, but this is about pleasure, not pain. I called it ‘Training’ so I could get the afternoon off!”

Rodney couldn’t help responding to the smug expression on his Master’s face and he grinned back.

“Now, I’m going to remove this leash and then you are going to take off all your clothes, while I watch!” The Major’s eyes were shining with enthusiasm as he leaned forward and unclipped the leash, so Rodney struggled to keep the happy expression on his face. Stripping and revealing the un-toned and pale flesh that covered his weedy body was really not his favorite activity, but he had been commanded by his owner, so he dutifully stood and unzipped his suit.

 

John watched. He couldn’t help but enjoy the spectacle of watching his slave remove his clothes. He also couldn’t help the added frisson gained through the knowledge that he had commanded this, that he owned the flesh that was being revealed. It made him growl to see the marks that were not placed on his slave’s back by himself, and he hated that the man’s body was too thin, but he liked what he could see and certain parts of his anatomy agreed whole heartedly.

It didn’t take long for Rodney to be kneeling in front of him wearing nothing but the collar that John had put on him. John smiled and stood, ready to inspect, and Rodney’s dick suddenly got with the program, causing Rodney to blush and John to chuckle.

John brushed his hand through Rodney’s hair, enjoying the newly-washed softness, then he trailed his hand down Rodney’s cheek, cupping the man’s chin and pulling upwards so that those beautiful blue eyes were looking up into his own hazel ones.

“Lovely!” John murmured appreciatively, refusing to allow Rodney to look down and enjoying the blush on his slave’s cheeks.

John then released Rodney’s chin and slid his hand down his slave’s neck to finger the chain that rested there. He thumbed the disk that hung there and felt a thrill of possession run through his body - mine!

Abruptly, he released Rodney and stood up.

“Undress me!” John commanded and was startled when Rodney leaped to his feet to obey, at a speed almost faster than light.

What happened next would remain in John’s memory for a very long time.

Rodney didn’t just remove his Master’s uniform, he seduced the Major while doing it. With care and reverence, he slid the zipper down his Master’s front, revealing the black tee-shirt underneath slowly, inch by inch. When the zipper had reached his Master’s waist, he inserted his hands underneath, lightly smoothing over the material-covered chest and pulling the uniform away. His hands reached his Master’s firm shoulders and they brushed over them, pulling the uniform over the arms.

It could have been a humdrum experience, but the look of awe on his slave’s face as he revealed the tee-shirt underneath was making John shiver all over and his pants felt unbearably tight. 

Rodney moved swiftly around to his Master’s back and pulled the uniform so gently it became sensual and finally John was released from the restriction on the top of his body. The jacket was laid carefully to one side and then those hands were back, smoothing all over the tee-shirt that was left and forcing John to breathe heavily and close his eyes, dropping his head forward, gasping.

Suddenly those clever hands were underneath his tee-shirt and John thought he would come right there and then! They were caressing his body under the shirt, touching lightly and yet without actually tickling, feeling his all over and running through the thick hair on his chest. Then once again, the hands reached his shoulders and he found himself compliantly lifting his arms up, raising his head and letting the tee-shirt leave his sweating, shaking body.

There was a constant murmur going on in the background and it took a few moments of concentration to realize that the words were coming from himself. John was repeating over and over again. “Oh God! Oh God! Oh shit! Oh God!”

He couldn’t help it. John had to react somehow, so he grabbed his slave and pulled them together, wrapping his arms around Rodney’s body and burying his head in his slave’s shoulder. Rodney’s arms were trapped between their bodies, but he didn’t struggle and John breathed in the clean scent of his slave’s neck and tried to control himself.

When he was ready, he stepped back and looked down into his slave’s face. What he saw there made John grin. Rodney’s face was split in the widest smile John had ever seen and John just pulled Rodney’s head down until it was lightly crushed against his shoulder. Emotion zinged between them and John knew that this was right… this was good and it was going to get better!

When he was ready, John released his slave and, when Rodney looked up for permission, he nodded sharply. Rodney then knelt down and John felt his arousal go up another, previously unrecorded, notch.

Rodney first undid his Master’s boots all the way, guiding him to sit and then pulling off both boots and socks, before inviting his Master to stand again so he could get to the best bit.

Rodney’s fingers were trembling as he reached for the button on his Master’s pants and it took two attempts to release the offending button. Then he pulled on the zipper. His intention had been to go slowly, but gravity and some kind of kinetic energy forced the zipper down and, before he had even registered what he was doing, Rodney hands were around his Master’s waist and tugging gently at the waistband, digging for the treasure underneath.

Rodney knew how to do this part. He had been punished enough times in the past for causing the man he was serving to topple over as he pulled the pants down, so he worked swiftly, pulling the pants down and then steadying his Master and lifting his bare feet so that he could pull the trousers off the Major’s leg without letting either leg get caught up.

Then, at last, he got to best part. He looked up to confirm that this was what was wanted, and then he put his warm hands over the struggling underpants. He tenderly felt all over before finally inserting his hands into either side of the waist band and pulling up and over, not allowing any discomfort to come to his Master, who continued to pant and huff out semi-phrases and half-formed words of encouragement. The underpants slipped off easily and without unbalancing the Major and finally, his Master stood proud before him, wearing nothing but his tags and his black wristband.

For a full minute Rodney knelt in front of his Master and just drank in the beautiful sight, then, swallowing, he asked.

“Master? May I…?” He gestured at the proud, red cock in front of him and his Master snorted.

“You’d better!”

Gleefully Rodney darted forward, but he began with his hands, lightly caressing up and down the shaft with his fingers and delighting when it twitched. He then pressed a little harder and let his left hand slide down to finger the balls hanging heavily underneath. The litany of words from his owner had become a series of shudders and entreaties to ‘Come on! Come on!’ and Rodney grinned before opening his mouth and throat and taking in the whole shaft.

 

Rodney was peripherally aware of his Master's reaction to being taken but his focus was on the cock in his mouth. Rodney held it as deep as he could for a moment and then withdrew slightly, both to suckle harder on the end as well as to allow the taste to permeate his mouth. He swirled his tongue around the head and heard a groan as he bobbed his head up and down. Rodney dared to use a hint of teeth as he moved up and down the shaft. He used one hand on his Master's hip to steady him, the other fondled the heavy balls as they hung down. 

Taking his Master in completely, Rodney relaxed his throat and pressed in so that his nose was against the wiry hairs. Swallowing deliberately, he heard his Master give a long groan as his mouth was suddenly filled with bitter fluid. Swallowing eagerly, Rodney waited for his Master to start to slump before withdrawing completely. He used both hands to hold his Master steady as he panted and looking up, Rodney was relieved to see a happy, sated smile on his Master’s face.

 

As Rodney swallowed him down whole, John nearly came on the spot and he shouted in shock and overwhelming pleasure. All he could think was ‘Warm! Delight! Ecstasy!’ as his dick pulsed and demanded that he release. Damn, but his slave was good. Rodney was bobbing up and down, sucking and tonguing, scraping just a little and then doing… oh God… what the HELL was that? And suddenly there was nowhere else to go and John was coming and coming, frustration and guilt and fear and joy all converging into one over-riding emotion that he just couldn’t name, leaving him spent, breathless and very, very happy. 

He moved back a couple of paces and, on colliding with the bunk, flopped back, energy sapped. John was vaguely aware of Rodney shifting, so he turned his head and looked at his grinning slave. Summoning the energy from somewhere, John freed an arm and his hand buried itself in Rodney’s hair.

“That was amazing!” John breathed and smiled when Rodney blushed at the praise. A glance downwards showed that Rodney had enjoyed it as much as he had, so he patted the side of the bed. “Come here!” he commanded.

Rodney pulled himself up and perched on the edge of the narrow bunk, then squealed as John suddenly grasped his cock. It was thicker than John expected and a decidedly interesting pink color now that he was groping it. He squeezed it experimentally and then slid his hand over the hood, in imitation of what his slave had done for him earlier on. He had never tried actually giving a blow job before, but he found himself tempted to try… just not yet. At the moment he felt too lazy to do anything but fondle and watch.

Rodney was panting and grasping at the blanket, so John pulled away.

“I want to watch you finish yourself off,” John told his slave. “Make it fast and furious!” he added with a laugh.

“Really, Master? In front of you?” Rodney asked, his voice wavering, but his dick clearly happy with the idea given the twitching.

“Do it!” John confirmed and relaxed to watch.

It didn’t take much. Rodney grabbed his own cock and pumped hard while John’s attention flickered between the action below and the look of pink excitement on the Scientist’s face. Rodney flushed and sweated, puffing his cheeks out, while his eyes flashed blue and his head dipped with effort. Then the slave roared and a rope of come spurted out, landing in a stripe over Rodney’s legs and a bit of the floor.

John watched as his slave moaned and slumped, only to discover that he was laughing. Rodney looked over and started laughing too, causing John to sit up and pull his slave towards him. It had been intimate and exciting and now John wanted to hold Rodney and hug him, so he did. He tugged at Rodney so that they could lie together on the single bed, his chest against Rodney's back. They calmed together and John found himself tucking the back of Rodney’s head into his own chest and squeezing gently. Rodney put his own arms on John’s and relaxed into the hold, sharing the happy moment.

It was broken by Rodney.

“Master?”

“Hm?” John responded, although the form of address made him frown. “You don’t have to call me that you know.”

“I really want to,” Rodney replied.

“OK,” John shrugged and squeezed again. “What was it?”

“I just… thank you.” Rodney pulled away a little so he could turn his head and meet his Master’s eyes and John saw that light of affection and emotion in them again.

“You seemed to be enjoying yourself,” John grinned.

“It’s never been like that before,” Rodney confessed. “I’ve never… it’s the first time I really wanted to be with a man. So… thank you, Master.”

John chuckled and dropped a kiss on the top of his slave’s head. “I’m glad it was good for you too. Consider yourself trained!”

Rodney sniggered and relaxed again.

“Unfortunately we need to get cleaned up and back on the job! There’s only so much ‘training’ I can get away with!” John spoke regretfully.

“Do we have to?” Rodney whined and John laughed.

“Yeah, we have to! Go and get the shower started while I pick out some clean clothes. You’ll need to clean up the mess too!” John indicated the congealed stripe of goo on the floor and felt evil for expecting his slave to clean it up.

“Of course, Master!” Rodney agreed, sounding surprised that his Master had bothered to mention it.

With Rodney in the bathroom, John did a quick action replay in his head and decided that, actually, having a slave was pretty cool!

***

“Major?” A voice insisted and John forced himself to concentrate and remind himself that he was still in the conference room and not back in his little room. Elizabeth had held him back after the exciting meeting of senior staff and even the setting of the date for leaving and the confirmation that all was in place had not been enough to keep his mind from drifting back to the things that had happened before breakfast.

“Um… Elizabeth? I beg your pardon, what did you ask?”

“I asked if you had finished training your slave,” Elizabeth repeated without anger and looked down at the kneeling slave in question. 

John and Rodney exchanged blushing glances as John realized that Rodney knew exactly why his Master had missed the question. Rodney had ‘put his training into practice’ that morning and proved that he had been well trained and Elizabeth’s enquiry had just triggered a beautiful memory.

“Oh… yeah, I think so!” John answered, unable to hide the grin.

“Perhaps you would like to show me?” Elizabeth invited and John spluttered.

“Excuse me?” Then he saw Elizabeth’s face.

“I meant for you to show me his obedience training!” Elizabeth told him with just a hint of a smirk, as though she knew what else John had been ‘training’ his slave to do.

“Oh! Yes… of course! Well, uh…”

It didn’t take long for them to show the Lady that Rodney could kneel and stand, fetch and present and generally behave. Elizabeth quickly approved and agreed to add the slave to the list of suitable attendants.

“I had no doubt, Major… John, but I had to make sure. Will you command your slave to stand please?”

Surprised, John gave the command and Rodney stood just a little behind his Master.

“Rodney,” Elizabeth astonished both men by addressing the slave directly. “You are a brilliant scientist and I know that you will be a great asset to the expedition. Dr Zelenka has already requested that you assist him and I know that you will serve your Master faithfully, but I also wish for you to attend all the staff meetings with either your Master or Dr Zelenka. I think that you will be able to provide valuable insights and you are well known for very fast thinking. Obviously you must seek approval for your actions from your Master or from Radek, but I will never censure you for offering a solution to a problem.”

“You… I can… M… Master?” Rodney stuttered as he tried to work out what the Lady was offering.

“Look to me for permission to speak, Rodney,” John clarified, “and then you have permission to speak freely. Is that right, Dr Weir?”

“Yes, that’s it exactly!” Elizabeth smiled. “And if the Major is not there, then seek Dr Zelenka’s permission, but your voice will be heard, I promise.”

“Master… will you thank her Ladyship for me, please?” Rodney asked, clearly overwhelmed.

“You can speak directly to me,” Elizabeth told him gently. “I have read your files and court case and… well, I think you have been treated harshly. I am honored that you will be a part of this mission, Dr McKay… Rodney.”

John smiled and placed a hand on his emotional slave’s shoulder.

“Thank you, My Lady. We both appreciate your kind words,” he told her, feeling a little moved himself.

“Well, we all have a lot to do before Friday! Go and start packing, Major Sheppard!” Elizabeth ordered with twinkling eyes.

“Yes Ma’am!” John saluted and tugged gently on Rodney’s leash to lead him from the conference room.

 

***

The wait for Friday to arrive was almost unbearable but in different ways for each of them. Rodney was rushed off his feet with the fine tuning that needed to be done on generators, casings, equipment and anything that was going with them of a scientific nature. He was also working closely with Dr Zelenka on the precise calculations and calibrations for getting them into the new Galaxy.

John, meanwhile, was discovering that he really would be a bit of a spare part. He still hadn’t made it off-world and it looked as though it wouldn’t happen now until they finally stepped through the Gate to get to the Pegasus Galaxy. He wasn’t needed by the Marines, who had their own command structure – one into which he just didn’t fit, and the Command staff were all far too busy, so he just sauntered around and kept ending up in the labs, watching his slave do his thing.

There was one little doubt that niggled him, and, upon making enquiries, he was directed to the slightly scary Dr Grodin. However, on posing his question, he discovered that the communications expert and computer whizz was actually a gentle, softly spoken man with a sense of humor.

“No,” Peter Grodin laughed. “It’s not true that Rodney’s collar will explode. It’s just a gimmick. There are some collars that give electric shocks and that kind of thing, but none of them really explode. Let me see Rodney’s and I’ll tell you all I can.”

“I dread to ask but how do you know all this?” John asked with trepidation.

“My first job from college was designing collars for rich clients who wanted extra features. I didn’t do it for long, it seemed to me that there were just too many perverts in the UK and it wasn’t anything like the engineering and programming I wanted to do.”

John grinned at the look of disgust on the scientist’s face.

“I didn’t ask for any extra features,” he offered. “I just wanted one that would be comfortable and would look like a piece of jewellery.”

Dr Grodin smiled, “I’m glad. I’ve known Dr McKay for a while and I am relieved that he belongs to a good man now.”

***

John could hear Rodney tossing and turning at the foot of his bed. They both had to be up and moving in a few hours but, obviously, neither could sleep.

"Rodney?" John asked softly. He didn't want to really wake the other man if he was by any chance sleeping.

"Yes, Master?" came the swift reply. The rustling of the blankets told John that Rodney had sat up.

"Come here," John used the same soft voice. This was their last night on Earth and… well, John didn't know what he wanted but he didn't want to simply lie awake and stare at the ceiling.

Without a word, Rodney came over on his knees to the side of the bed. "Did you want something?" Rodney asked using the same soft tone John had used. As if he didn't want to be overheard.

Almost by instinct, John wriggled back on the bed and held up the covers. "It'll be a tight fit but I want you here. Here where I can touch you."

There was a flash of something – longing? – in Rodney's eyes that John didn't catch well enough to address. "Master?" Rodney questioned.

"Don't think too hard about it," John sighed. "Just get in."

Rodney scrambled off the floor and into the bed that really was too small for two grown men. With some wriggling and adjustment, John found himself with his chest to Rodney's back, one arm draped about the slave's waist. John snuggled into the warmth, tightened his grip and fell asleep.

In the morning, Rodney was back on the floor at the foot of the bed but there was a faintly smug, happy look that John hoped he had put there.

"Come on," John commanded, nudging his slave, "this is going to be a busy day."

 

***  
At long last Friday arrived and John and Rodney reported, as commanded, to the Gate room. John fiddled nervously with Rodney’s leash, but Rodney seemed too excited to be nervous. He had claimed, that morning, to be terrified of what was coming, but John could see that the spirit of adventure was blossoming in his slave. What seemed to bother Rodney the most was the uncertainty of what awaited them on the other side of the Gate.

All around them were metal boxes, equipment for mining, surveying, experimenting… blowing things up… and trolleys full of guns and medical equipment. They only had 38 minutes to pack as much through the wormhole as possible, after which they would be cut off, possibly forever.

The languages spoken were varied and weird and the whole idea of there being so many of these uniformed men and women who actually had nothing to do with the Military made John’s mind reel. Rodney knelt next to him, watching everything and scowling sometimes, but that just made John chuckle.

There was sudden bustle and a file of men and women in dark gray coverall-style suits, with dull steel collars around their necks, marched into the Gate room. They lined up in five rows of four and stood to attention, while their officer went to the front and saluted to Colonel Sumner. This was the Custodian Corps – the twenty male and female slaves who had been assigned to do the menial duties in Atlantis. They were all convicts and their collars would deliver strong shocks if anyone spoke the words –  
*Command code – shock* followed by a number between one and five. One was a mild shock and five would incapacitate the wearer. John was grateful he did not have to put such an awful thing on Rodney and would have taken it up with Elizabeth if anyone had dared suggest it.

There were other commands, apparently, but only their officers and supervisors knew those. John was used to these men and women serving around the base and the Mess. It would have been one of these people who had always cleaned his quarters before he had been given a Rodney, and it bothered him that he knew nothing about them or their lives. He had always known they were there, but they had been a part of the furniture, melting into the background, deserving of fairly harsh lives for their crimes.

Only now did John question whether any of these people were as guilty as they had always seemed. Neither had he ever wondered what crimes they had committed to be condemned to such a life. Were their lives as awful as Rodney’s had been? 

“May I speak to your slave for a moment, Major?”

John was startled by the voice that spoke into his thoughts and nearly knocked the short Czech scientist over as he spun around. 

“Help yourself!” John grinned.

“Come please,” Zelenka invited and John surprised them both by unhooking the leash. “I need him for the control room, Major. He is still the greatest expert in Ancient technology and I need him to help interpret the…”

“Dr Z… take him! Just get him there with the rest of us!” John offered gladly. It would keep Rodney busy and stop his fretting, even if it did nothing to settle John.

Zelenka grinned and beckoned to Rodney, disappearing past the crowds gathering.

John contemplated the Stargate and what lay beyond it. There was a definite pull towards it, as though the adventure was destined to be the best thing that had ever happened to him. He hadn’t felt this anticipation before going to Afghanistan. That had been pure fear and bravado, wrapped up in flying the most advanced aircraft in the world. The war zone had been there as a way for him to defy his parents and his upbringing.

This was a promise waiting to be fulfilled.  
“Major!”

John tried to avoid overreacting – he was Airforce after all – but Colonel Sumner’s dislike of him always made him want to straighten his back.

“Colonel,” he acknowledged.

“Where’s your slave?” the Colonel barked.

“Control room, sir. He was needed by the scientists,” John explained, holding onto his patience.

“You’ll need these.” The Colonel held up a pair of leather handcuffs.

“Sir?” John questioned, surprised. Was the Colonel the sort who needed to tie his slaves up before…?

“No leash, we don’t know what it will be like going from one galaxy to another, so these will restrain him. Standard for all slaves coming with us.”

John glanced at the girl kneeling at the Colonel’s feet, already wearing her cuffs and still leashed.

“It might be a problem for Rodney, Colonel. He will be needed almost immediately by the Science team. I was intending to have him follow me closely and latch onto my Tak vest if necessary.”

“You demanding special treatment?” the Chief Marine asked menacingly, stepping into John’s space and staring at him with flinty eyes.

“No sir, it’s just a safety thing. If they need someone to hook up a laptop to the Ancient computers to avoid the city reacting badly to us, then Dr Zelenka believes that the best person for that is the greatest expert on Ancient tech… my slave Rodney. I promise to keep him under my supervision.” John worked to make it an explanation and not an excuse that Sumner could counter. John kept his eyes respectfully over the Colonel's shoulder and did not move under the close scrutiny.

The Colonel’s eyes remained trained on John’s and John read the message clearly. ‘I don’t like you and I don’t approve of you.’ When the man backed away, clearly believing John properly cowed, John couldn’t help muttering to himself.

“Not massively keen on you either, sir.”

“Don’t worry about the Colonel, sir. He’s a good commander,” A voice offered cheerfully over John's shoulder.

John turned to look at the young lieutenant who had joined him at the foot of the ramp. He looked like an eager puppy, ready for ‘walkies’, not a Marine officer.

“I’m sure,” John agreed. “I just don’t think he likes flyboys! So…” John left off delicately since he did not know how close the lieutenant was to Sumner and if he'd report back John's disrespect.

“Aidan Ford, sir. Glad to meet you.” The lieutenant sketched a decidedly informal salute. "I had hoped we would have a chance to meet before this." Ford waved at the semi-chaos around them.

“Likewise,” John decided to like the puppy. He could use a friend among the Marines and he knew that as the only other officer in the contingent, Ford would be walking a fine line himself having to obey Sumner as well as command Marines much older than himself.

On the ramp, Dr Weir asked for hush and gave her speech. She made one last offer that anyone who did not want to go could leave without prejudice but no one moved. Then, finally, the Stargate started dialling and the symbols began locking… six… seven… eight… Oh God! The whole thing whooshed, the puddle rippled, and everyone cheered while the MALP was sent through.

Up in the control room, John could see Rodney fussing with screens and readouts, but at one point he caught his Master’s eye and he gave John a thumbs-up. John’s smile widened and he looked back at the ‘Gate. They were really going to do this!

Up there, beyond the rippling blue was a whole new Galaxy to explore, an adventure that John had never anticipated being presented to him and, while he was understandably terrified, he couldn’t help feeling the pull of excitement and a feeling that this was what it had all been leading up to. John took one last look at Rodney’s shining face and placed his foot on the ramp leading up to the Stargate and the Lost City of Atlantis.

 

 

End of Book One!


End file.
